Catching Heaven
by ria95
Summary: We chose to love, we do not chose to cease loving. Love does hurt. Guy/OC, Robin/OC onesided, no Marian, does not necessarily follow timeline. Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my OC and any original story line. Previously called Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur
1. Prologue

Prologue

Love.

An easy four letter word. One syllable; two vowels and two letters alternating within themselves, forming pairs. Love. Not even a particularly difficult vocable to enunciate. A smooth, soft sound, shortly uttered. Love.

It would seem strange that such a simple term could describe such a complex and intricate idea. An emotion that rules the mortal world and has even its influence in the realm of deities. Such a queer, difficult sentiment. Often easily mistaken for it's antonym: Hate. For how easily does love manage to generate hate. Most conflicts, most pain in this world is caused by this four letter pathos, which has more power than its denomination would ever suggest. Most wars fought, because of some ill-concieved ideal of love for a patriotic and often fool-hardy ideology. The term 'a crime of passion' was not one coined so plainly.

So if love causes so much pain: Why not eradicate it? It would seem strange to me, that people suggest this world is ruled by greed, when love is so clearly it's dictator. So, why not abolish it from it's authoritarian regime? Why not follow the examples of Napoleon Bonaparte, Louis XVI and overthrow this cruel tyrant, who takes from us our freedom? Because we crave the subjugation to love. Because we adore the agony of passion. We wish for it. We desire it. Because so sweet is the bliss of knowing what it is to love and to be loved in return. We are members of the human race, and as such we crave for life, beauty, romance and love. Because we are alive and thus by loving make our mark in the world, our confirmation of passage.

Love stories have filled our time. Couples have forever made their marks in our history due to their love. Eloise and Abelard, with a love so innocent, pure and willing to overcome any hardships of cruel circumstance. Samson and Delilah, a treacherous love filled with passion and pain. Guinevre and Lancelot, a love so profound that it overcame any morals the involved may have, one that caused disloyalty and hurt. Even if the endings of our heroes and heroines may have been tragic, the story is not to be viewed as such for they knew what it was like to love and to be loved in return. And that is the greatest gift, the most treasurable possesion that a human can hope to receive. The communion of flesh, the sharing of fate, the intertwining of souls. But none of the afore mentioned stories can compare with the tale of Eloise and Guy of Gisborne, who loved each other with a passion so acute, so all-consuming that it defied celestial will. For since the beginning of time their destines were to unite. But by a cruel twist of circumstance, they were not to be. Their love opposed by the greatest force in the universe. But once ordained for one another, our souls shall want no other than who they were first tailored for.

The following tale shall have no simple joy, shall know no lightheartedness, for it is the story of two tragic lovers, whose uncontainable affection for one another, would destroy them. A love: forbidden, forever. I beseech you to not pity them though, for they found out what it was to love and to be loved in return, and that is all one can ask.


	2. Fragile, yet devious

Chapter 1

_"She seems dressed in all the rings.. of past fatalities. So fragile, yet so devious- she continues to see. Climatic hands that press her temples and my chest . Enter the night that she came home- forever." Vermillion, Slipknot _

Her hands had grown tired from the embroidery. Her eyes weary. As Lady Anne of Chester looked up and let the sun's light shine on her face, she caught a swirl of red disappearing behind one of the abutting trees of the dense forest, which neigboured the wealthy Chester Manor, where she was the mistress. Upon seeing that brief ribbon of fiery red, which had dissappeared in response to Lady Anne's loss of focus on her craft, the warm matriarch of Chester felt affection and amusement rise in her chest. "If you wish to hear a story, my darling girl, you need simply ask. I assure you, you shall not achieve your purpose or any task that you set your mind to by cowering behind the shrubbery", Lady Anne advised good naturedly. A tiny face peeked out from behind the tree and slowly, but surely a little girl approached. One who had merely spent five years on this world, but had filled Lady Anne's life with more joy, than she could ever dream of having. Her daughter, the light of her life, her greatest achievement. Bearing her, bestowing her life had been her proudest deed. The little girl kneeled in front of her sitting mother and with a delicate voice, bid her to tell her a tale. "What tale did you have in mind, little dove.", Lady Anne asked. The girl scrunched up her nose at the endearment and vehemently stated: "I'd prefer to be a wolf, than a dove, mother. For wolves are much more resourceful, and have a subtle elegance that rivals dove's apparent beauty." Lady Anne chuckled in response to her daughter's adamant beseeching. She already had her father's fiery, passionate spirit, but managed to interlace it with the gentleness and the valor, which Lady Anne often saw in herself. "Tell me any story, dear mother, tell me your favourite story, please", the small girl pleaded.

Lady Anne started her tale, the tale of Abelard and Eloise- who much to her daughter's delight was her namesake. She told her child, of the love between Eloise and Abelard, which was purer and more all-consuming than God's. She did not hide the forbidden nature of the lover's passion and the sorrow and hardship they encountered. And as she finished her tale, she gazed upon little Eloise's thoughtful and sorrowful face and with a thin voice, the little girl stated: "Mother, I do not know whether I like this story, that much. It is quite sad, poor Eloise and Abelard." Lady Anne smiled at her daughter and scooped her up into her lap. She then stated: "I understand why you may pity them, my darling girl. Similarly to you, I also did not like this story in my youth. But I found, that this tale is the most beautiful one ever recounted and Eloise and Abelard to be envied, for they were bestowed with the greatest gift known to man. The gift being loved and encountering your soulmate. Don't you see, my sweet child, Life and hardship were never able to separate them. Their love for one another held true; any pain, any cruelty could not separate them and life was simply preparing them for their eternity together, when they abandoned their carnal vessels." At this Eloise's face brightened up and her sky-blue eyes were bequeathed with a spark of excitement,which was truly endearing. "Mother", she whispered euphorically "Mother do you believe that I shall find my Abelard?" At this Lady Anne gazed upon her daughter's face. She could truly say, without a mouther's bias, that her child was lovely and would grow up to become a very beautiful woman. One, and Lady Anne prouded herself to say this, that men would craft tales and legends for. "Of course, my dear child!" She said to the excited little infant on her lap "But not until later, for now you are a child and must enjoy your infanthood, before the chains of life start to weigh you down. Go play!" And as her child ran off gaily, Lady Anne thought of the hardship her life had become. She was married to a cold man, who she had come to care for, but would never love, as he would never love her. Eloise vied for her father's attention, but he was equally frosty toward her, as to anyone else he meet. She prayed that her daughter, the only joy she had left, would find true happiness and would not end up with someone like the Lord of Chester. She vehemently prayed, while she watched her darling girl skip off in the direction of her favoured location- a meadow filled with heather flowers, where she spent so much time that the musky flower had become Eloise's natural scent, the muskyness was only broken by sweet notes of honey. An endearing combination, thought Lady Anne before she once again devoted herself to her embroidery.

* * *

Eloise's first ten years in this life were happy ones, filled with joy. Eventhough, her father was a cold, unfeeling man, her mother's affection and loving nature made up for any pain that Eloise endured at her father's indifference. Her childhood was also made merrier by her dear, loyal nurse, who had cared for Eloise since the day she was born, and Nurse Matilda, not having any children herself, had adopted Eloise. So it was natural that with two loving, matriarchal figures in her life, that Eloise never wanted for love. Her favourite memories of that time, were listening to her mother's well narated tales, before running off into the woods and playing in her most favourite meadow. Another fond memory was her 9th Birthday, where her mother had presented her with a small, silk pouch that smelled of incenses and reminded her of the Sunday morning services, which she would attend with her parents. As Eloise gazed upon the tiny sack, her mother explained: "Eloise, my sweet girl, once the time is right and you have found your love, you shall burn this pouch, for it shall give you clues about the behaviour of your love. Is the smoke sweet, so shall he be true to no one but yourself. Is the smoke bitter, than... he is not your love." At this explanation, Eloise had adored the gift and would treasure it until the day she found her love and would burn it. But her tenth year would bring her nothing but sorrow, for her beloved mother took gravely ill. Lady Anne fought bravely against her impeding death, horrified at the thought of abandoning her darling girl. Unfortunately, no one could defy faith and Lady Anne passed, after yielding to the harrows of her illness. Eloise was inconsolable, her grief barely assuaged by her nurse's presence.

Now that her mother was gone, she truly felt her father's indifference and now more than ever pursued his attentions. But Lord Chester remained aloof toward his only child, silently resenting her gender, for his wife had not even managed to give him a son. Eloise sensing her father's displeasure did everything she could to earn his pride. She became instructed in archery and was resourceful. She was kind to her father's people and was well loved, due to her benevolent gentleness and delicate manner. She also grew to become, confirming her mother's predictions, a beautiful woman, who had many suitors. She never encouraged their affection for she did never grow to love them. Thankfully, her father never pressed her for an engagement. But as she neared her 17th year, her father become more and more impatient and less accepting of her misgivings with the suitors. However, before he could force Eloise into a loveless marriage, a fate similar to his own, he became gravelly ill. Feeling his demise approaching, he sorted out his daughter's fate. One evening he summoned her to his room, to which he had been confined for the last two weeks. With a hoarse voice, he told her: "Since you have failed in your task to become married, I had to make different provisions for you. After my burial, you shall go to Knighton, where my brother Sir Edward is the Lord of. You shall be his burden from now on." He dismissed her and that night passed away in his sleep. At her father's burial, Eloise felt no pain, she felt no sorrow. Rather, she felt like an oppresive weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She cried silent tears during the service. They were not tears of sadness, but rather of relief. She was free of her father and to think of her father as a captor, grieved her but was awfully accurate.

* * *

The day, Eloise was to leave for Knighton was a grief filled one, for her nurse would not leave Chester and her husband. Eloise was never to see the woman again, who had been her mother for the past 10 years. Who had given her love, and had nurtured her in her darkest hours. As she gazed upon her beloved caretaker with tear-filled eyes, the nurse said in her smoky voice, which had come to be a source of comfort to her: "Go my beautiful, darling girl. Now that you are free, you must find your destiny. Go into the world ahead and pursue joy. Always." After a last tear-filled hug, Eloise sat upon her white mare Lark, and rode to Knighton not knowing that therein lay her fate.


	3. Nothing to move me, nothing to change me

Chapter 2

_"For so long nothing could move me. For so long nothing could change me." My Confession- Josh Groban _

It was once again a tedious day in Sir Guy of Gisborne's opinion_. _He sat leisurely upon his midnight black mare and silently observed Locksley. He observed the man working on the field's, sawing so that come reaping, the harvest of Locksley would be most bountiful. He prided himself that no villager would dare to approach him and break him out of his quiet, authoritarian reverie. They feared him, feared his cruelty and ruthlessness for he was no lax ruler like his predecessor. He had disciplined them, taught them that they would only earn any kind of retribution only through hard work, sweat and often blood. He was ruthless, and cruel and had no misgivings to harshly punish anyone- they be children,women or otherwise- if his inferiors did not act to his consent. He had demanded respect and their utter obe

dience. He knew that he would never have their amity, nor did he wish for it. They thought him to be the devil- handsome, poingnant and always dressed in black leather, which reflected the colour of his heart and soul. No Guy of Gisborne most certainly would never receive the appreciation of the inhabitants of Locksley, for they were completely devoted to his predecessor.

At the thought of Robin Hood, Guy had to sneer and a deep, abiding hatred for the man welled up in his chest. Guy of Gisborne disliked many people. Truly, it was impossible to name one, which he cared for. Not even his sister could stir up any affection and the two siblings had been enstranged for years. But if there was one person, who Guy despised over all other, who he wished dead... it was Robin of the Hood, former Lord of Locksley, and Earl of Huntington. But now just an outlaw. Guyhad despised Robin since he had arrived at Locksley, back from the Holy Lands. The two years, that Gisborne had laboured to discipline the people of Locksley and ensure their utter obedience had almost been abrogated when Hood had marched in with an arrogant, haughty look on his face. It wounded his pride to see the villagers of Locksley welcoming back their former lord with such adoration. He was to be cast out. No longer would he be lord over Locksley, he was to only be a lackey to the egotistical whims of Sheriff Vasey. That thought of being subservient to Vasey revolted Guy, he almost despised Vasey as much as Robin, but it was Vasey, who had bestowed power upon him. Power was the only thing that Gisborne desired, and Vasey had earned his reluctant loyalty by bestowing power upon him. He was opportunistic, but who in this world wasn't. Guy had no qualms about being selfish, ruthless and malevolent to ensure his wealth, for power and money were his one love. No longer would he have to endure the feeling of helplessness, dependency that came with poverty. He was determined to never relive the ghosts of his childhood. If he had to lose his soul, so be it. He had long ago lost any faith in humanity and in goodness. Never posessing a Gisborne estate truly hurt him after all this time. Perhaps, this was the reason why he was so eager for land of his own and for maintaining that land with everything he had. He had been delighted, when Robin Hood had been named an outlaw. No longer was he at risk of losing his lands. He would do anything for power, and that included Vasey's cruel taunts of him. He despised the man, for the Sheriff had a sadistic glee, which Gisborne did not share. He was not repentant of his sins, for he believed that humanity had done far worse to ensure power, but he did not take delight in other's misfortune. No, he had suffered too much for that. No one that had suffered through hardships would take delight in other's misery. Clearly, Vasey had never suffered, had no reason for his vicious, power-hungry greed, except for the satisfication of his ego. To be subservient to that man, was a thorn in Gisborne's side, but Gisborne mollified himself thinking that Vasey was only a pawn in his plan and that he would come to be Sheriff. For now however, Guy had to feign loyalty and focus all his attentions on capturing and annihilating his rival: Hood.

He was broken out of his avaricious meditation by a soft, uttered "Excuse me, sir" behind him. Guy was annoyed and confused at this interruption. His inferiors knew better than to approach him for matters, which were not critical. He observed that the almost idyllic nature of this morning had not turned into disarray, and clearly did not warrant him being interrupted by anyone. Angry and prepared to castigate the individual behind him, Guy turned his stead around.

It was not often that Guy of Gisborne was struck speechless. Nor was he ever caught of guard, the last time was when he had been but an imp and his childhood had come crashing around him. But as he gazed upon his interruptor for the first time, his breath hitched and his chest was flooded with warmth and a unfamiliar gentleness, that greatly bothered Guy for he could not explain it. He gazed upon the girl in front of him, seated on a white mare. She must have been new to the surrounding area of Nottingham, for he had never seen her before. No, he would most assuredly remember if he had any familiarity with that face. She was by far not the most beautiful of women, Guy had ever seen for he had seen many a women in his 35 years on this earth. But he still thought her to be the loveliest of creatures he had ever laid eyes upon, for there was a genuinity, a gentleness, an innocence to her beauty that greatly endeared to Guy. He could see tendrils of fiery red hair underneath her blue hood, which greatly complemented her sky-blue eyes. It was her eyes that were disconcerting to Guy, for in them he could recognise gentility, kindness and a purity that he had never seen before in anyone's gaze. The gaze of most people he met showed their intent, a purpose, a plan. But all Guy could see in the gaze of the girl in front of him was amenity and... pain. He could clearly see pain,in the girl's gaze, which made her heartbreakingly beautiful, but also made him question what had caused the seemingly innocent girl this perpetual look of sorrow.

"Forgive me for interrupting you, sir. But I seem to have lost my way. Do you, perchance, know where Knighton is located?" The girl said in a delicate, soft voice, which perfectly suited her. Gisborne hesitated to answer for he was transfixed by the movement of the girl's soft, pink lips and had been fixing her with a gaze of such intensity that he was surprised that she had not yet recoiled from him. But she only kept looking upon him with a soft, expectant look, which he knew he would curse if it ever turned to disappointment. He remembered that she had inquired after directions and caught his composure: "Knighton is quite close to here, simply move north in the direction of Nottingham and the first settlement you encounter, shall be your destination." She smiled at him, such a dazzling smile full of gratitude, that had Gisborne feeling warm underneath his leather and caused a throbbing within his chest. "I am very grateful, sir. May I know the name of the man, who was so kind as to offer me assistance." The girl had awakened something within him. Never had he been completely transfixed by another human before. Studying, almost reverently, every gesture, every detail. With a desperation to prove her presence and existence and in fear that he should never encounter her again. But, she had been asking for directions to Locksley. A relative of Sir Edward, perhaps? Guy pondered this as he frowned. The thought of her proximity both relieved and distressed him. Whatever this girl had awakened within him, he wished to extinguish it. He cursed it. He would have to maintain his distance from her, for anyone, who could this easily disconcert him was a threat and Guy of Gisborne never took kindly to threats. "I do not require your gratitude, my lady. All you need to know is I am Lord of Locksley. If you would excuse me." With that he rode of in the direction of his Manor. All the way he resisted looking behind him to see whether she had just been a figment of his imagination.

* * *

Eloise continued to stare at the dark figure, which rode off on his equally dark horse. She was disconcerted by his shortness, and admittedly his rudeness. She had not wanted to disturb the dark, brooding man sitting atop of his stead, looking so out of place in the bright spring morning. However, her misgivings had to be left aside as she was wihout directions and the villagers would not answer her questions for fear of punishment, were they to be caught not working. So Eloise had approached the man from behind to ask for his assistance. As he had turned, she was meet by icy grey eyes, which had her momentarily reeling, as she fought to perserve her composure. Her nurse had always told her that eyes were the windows to one's soul. If that statement was indeed correct, this man's soul was algid and rancorous. She had impercetibly shaken her head. It was not fair for her to judge him, she had not even exchanged a word with the man in front of her, but she could detect a haunted look in his eyes, that suggested that this man had suffered more than most. Throughout their brief, almost one-sided conversation, he had been fxing her with a stare so intense that it seemed to penetrate into her soul and left her feeling quite flustered and uncomfortable. She averted her gaze and tried to look anywhere, but his eyes. She had to admit he was quite handsome. He had a dark, mysterious look that would have left the girls in Chester quite enthralled. His mouth seemed to be permantely set into a scowl, as he studied her, as if she were an object, almost a threat that he had to evaluate and categorise. He seemed distrusting toward everything and anyone, which left Eloise feeling sympathetic for him. So she had looked upon him with kindness, with the look she always gifted to strangers and decided to disregard her misgivings and her perceiving of the dark man. She had been left feeling speechless, when he refused her kindness and simply rode off. At least, she had managed to get what she came for. With a gentle nudge, Lark set off into the direction the man had given her.

It was not long after, that she arrived in Knighton. She did not remember her uncle's face, but remember that she thought him very kind, the onetime she'd meet him when she was younger. Her uncle Edward was a solitary man, his wife having died early on in the marriage and not bearing him any heirs. He had seemed fond of children, as he had indulged in her childish whims when he had visited her father in Chester, which led her to believe that had wanted children to call his own. She still was wary, as to how she would be received in his house. He was her father's brother, would he too only view her as a burden, only useful for a dowry? Would he force her to marry, despite her protests. Would he treat her poorly? She was shaken out of her thoughts, as a kind, older man stepped out of the wooden house and approached her. He had a kind face, which showed delight at her arrival. She immediately assumed (or hoped) that this was her uncle Edward. She dismounted Lark, as he came up to her and enveloped her in a warm hug. He seemed kinder, and more congenial that her father. Eloise was still guarded. "My dear niece. Welcome to Knighton. I am very glad to have you in my company. I only wish that I could have been under merrier circumstances.", Sir Edward said as he drew back from the embrace. Eloise smiled, albeit sadly. "I agree with you, Sir Edward. Although I am quite joyful and grateful for being her,despite the circumstances." "You do not need to call me Sir Edward, Eloise, I am your uncle so that title shall suffice." he chuckled. Eloise gave a small nod and was led to her rooms by a boisterous and talkative Sir Edward. She remembered that her father had mentioned, that his brother was the Sheriff of Nottingham, but Eloise assumed that he was no longer in that position. He seemed to lead a quiet life, but had the obvious urge to converse, as he had not stopped talking at her, since she had arrived. Eloise felt a surge of affection to the older man. Though still on her guard, she could not help but find him similar to her. Both seemed wanting for human interaction and contact. Perhaps, if he was as kind as he appeared, they would make suitable companions to each other.

She was lead up the stairs and Sir Edward opened a door to his right, revealing Eloise's accomodation at Knighton. It was a simple, yet comfortable room with a large bed in the middle close to a currently extinguished fire place. On the far left corner were her necessities of toiletry and she could see a big wardrobe, which would hold her posessions, as well as a looking glass, that all ladies posessed for their vanity. Eloise looked around with a small, content smile playing on her lips. The room was exactly to her liking, as the large window of the southern wall offered much light and illuminated the room, brightly.

"Is it to your liking, my dear? I took the liberty of purchasing some dresses and jewellery, which I thought you would appreciate. I am no longer Sheriff of Nottingham, but find that I still have a most prominent role in society. I would greatly appreciate you accompanying me to any events, which I may be required to attend, as well as the council of nobles, but that can wait a few weeks until you are properly settled in, my child." Sir Edward's ramble was cut short, by Eloise's smile and her bid of thanks. "You did not have to do this,uncle. I am most grateful and obliged you did, but you needn't have to go through such troubles for me. I assure you that I shall do my best to not be a burden to you." At this Sir Edward's face fell. He looked upon the melancholic girl, seated on the bed. She was truly beautiful and he could see his brother's spirit, as well as Anne's kindness. But she was so sad. He had no illusions about his brother. He knew him to be cold and aloof. He imagined that the girl had suffered under her father's indifference. He put a hand on the girl's shoulder and she looked up at him with her blue gaze, which he knew would cause many man at court some heartache. "I have no illusions about my brother, Eloise. I simply wish you to know, that my opinion on raising my progeny differs greatly from his. As long as you do not give me reason, I shall not act harshly with you. You are now my charge and I shall strive to raise and care for you, as if you were my own child." He cracked a placating smile and with that he left the room and the confounded girl behind.


	4. Not a soul

Chapter 3

_"But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear." The Rains of Castamere- George R.R. Martin (Blackwater) _

As the sun shone on her face, Eloise woke up feeling content. It had been two days, since she had arrived in Knighton, yet she had never felt so welcomed and at home at a place, like she did here. Not since her mother had passed 8 years ago. With that thought, Eloise rose gently and sat up with a reminiscing look upon her face. She had long come to terms with her mother's passing, only regretting the minimal amount of time they had spent in each other's company. Her mother had been her best friend. She had never socialised much with the other children, much prefering the company of adults, such as her mother and nurse, or going off by her lonesome self, lost in the dreams her fanciful mind would create. Her mother had always encouraged her dreamng and romanticizing of the world, wishing that Eloise would forever retain that idealistic, utopian view of the world around her. And she had, until her mother had been ripped from her at a much too young age and fate had left her with her father. From then on, Eloise had to grow up much too quickly. She become resourceful, and, she had to admit, rather cynical. Long gone were the romantic daydreams, where she would await her knight-in-shining-whatever to rescue her. Eloise rolled her eyes at her 8-year-old imaginations. No, after her mother's death, Eloise had done everything to earn her father's approval. She had become one of the best archers in the Chester area, had learned how to properly manage the estate, had become skilled at riding, reading and all else that her father could wish for in a son. Eloise was not stupid, she knew that her father never forgave her for being born with the wrong sex. He had always desired a son; alas irony of fate would leave him with a girl as his only heir. Eloise sometimes wished that she would have been born a man. Perhaps, her father would have loved her then. She quickly dispelled the thought. The man was dead and buried. His halls abandoned to whomever shall take it. Eloise took small delight in knowing that her father's legacy was likely to die with her. It was the proper punishment for his lifelong unkindness.

Standing up and moving to clean herself and take care of her matinal needs, Eloise remembered last night's dinner with Sir Edward. He was truly a congenial man. Very kind and apparently intent on pleasing her and making her life, as comfortable as possible. He was delighted to hear about Eloise's ability to manage an estate. He assured her that she did not need to worry herself, but did say that he would listen to her advice. All he wished was that she became a companion to him, similarly as a child of his would be. She was to accompany him to any social event, he was acquired to attend and to attend the council of nobles, which he was forced to attend at Nottingham castle. He had extensively informed her last night about the current political situation at Nottingham. He had informed her of Sheriff Vasey and his ever-rising tax rates, which left the people of Nottingham and the surrounding area destitute and in poverty. She was appalled and dreaded to go into Nottingham and see the citizen's misery. Her mother had always been kind and giving to the villagers at Chester. Even her father, had been fair and had never abused of the fortune of his people. So Eloise had always grown up in a household that was altruistic, and giving to people financially not as fortunate as her. Eloise could see that her uncle's people lived a relatively good life, but according to her uncle, much sadness awaited her. As Eloise washed her face to dispell any fatigue, she thought that she would never become comfortable knowing she owned so much, while around her people had so little. She was determined to make life a little better for them, as much as she could. She had done the same with the people at Chester. She would do the same here. Her uncle had warned her about Sheriff Vasey and his sadism. She wished to never meet this man. Unfortunately, she was bound to, seeing that her uncle was his predecessor. Her uncle had also warned her of Vasey's right-hand-man, Sir Guy of Gisborne. Her father described him as cruel, pitiless and ruthless and at his description, Eloise felt a twinge of dread at the thought of this man. From what she had gathered, Vasey was a relatively harmless man, whose sadistic glee and egotistical greed ruled his thoughts. Eloise feared that Sir Guy of Gisborne was a precarious man, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Her uncle had relayed the story of him murdering a father in front of his son. No, Eloise did not doubt that Sir Gisborne would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

On a more cheerful note, her uncle had also told her the tale of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws. He stole from the rich and gave to the poor, in Eloise's eyes, he was the most admirable of man and she longed to meet him. Her uncle had said that he was the former Lord of Locksley, inadvertently steering Eloise's mind to her encounter with the dark stranger. No wonder, none of his people had talked to her. Her uncle had painted Robin Hood as a most kind, and fair Lord, who treated his people with fairness and thus earned their admiration. Eloise did not believe that the brooding man was as lenient a leader as he. He simply exuded a quiet strength, an undeniable authority. As she thought of him and his inhumanly grey eyes, Eloise shivered, not out of fear, but for a different reason entirely unbeknownst to her.

She dressed in the black breeches, that she had brought from Chester, as well as her green tunic. She braided her red hair and decided she was going to go on a ride through Sherwood Forest. Lark would most certainly be impatiently awaiting her. Yesterday, she had not left Knighton for fear of her surroundings. Eloise had only ever spent time in Chester and the surrounding woods, never venturing further. Differently from her father, that travelled almost monthly. She had often beseeched him that take her with him on one of those travels. Not only did she long to see the world outside of Chester, but also thought that the long rides could have been a good way to bond with her father. He never took her and eventually, she gave up asking. But here she was, almost 100 miles from her childhood home, and she had found herself slightly fearful on her first day. Her talk with her uncle last night had instilled some confidence in her and Eloise was never one to sit still for too long a period. She longed for a ride, atop her faithful stead. She'd had Lark with her for 6 years and would ride with no other. She longed cut through the wind like an arrow, atop Lark. She longed for the freedom and liberty she felt as the wind rushed past her. The ecstasy of the unknown. The excitement of adventure. Lark too had become accustomed to their daily ride and was probably growing indignant with the lack of exercise. Eloise smiled, as she thought of the mood she would be received with by her horse. Similarly, to his mistress, Lark was a headstrong, fiery creature. The two of them were kindred souls, which is why they had bonded so well. Rider and Horse seemed to have been made for one another.

She grabbed her quiver and her bow and set out for the stables, but not before having some breakfast and grabbing a fruity treat for Lark. As soon as she entered the stable, she was received with a neigh from her ride. The indignant sound caused laughter to bubble within Eloise and as she came to pet his nose, she could swear that Lark was looking at her with an accusing gaze. He huffed and puffed, but once she had given him the apple, he seemed appeased and allowed his owner to pet him and nuzzle his nose. After finishing the apple, he gave a contented neigh, which signalled his easily-bought forgiveness. Eloise burrowed her face into the soft, silvery mane of hair to conceal her mirth at Lark's antics. "Now, will you continue to act like a neglected old maid, or will you consent to our ride?" She questioned with a serious face, which she could only uphold for a few seconds, before allowing her amusement to creep back into her fair features. She saddled her horse and rode off in the direction of Sherwood forest.

* * *

She had been exploring the insides of Sherwood for an hour now. Sorrounded by the peaceful silence, only ever interrupted by the chirpings of birds, she let go of a tension, she did not know she was holding. The woods had always been her element, where she had felt safest. This notion was probably quite silly, as most viewed the woods as an imment danger, a dwelling of thieves, outlaws and various other unsavory characters. But Eloise... she could not explain it. She had always felt safer in the woods, than in the halls of her father, and as a result she would spend hours and hours in the wood surrounding Chester, mostly lying upon her meadow, heathers surrounding her and feeling the sun shine upon her pale skin. She remembered with fondness and longing the way her nurse would chastise her for her dirty dresses, a result of her field trips. Eloise had always felt as if she had been born within the woods and was certain that she would die in them as well. The thought brought her no distress, but rather peace. The certainty of dying in safety soothed her.

She was so lost in her thoughts, that she did not hear nor see the group of men that had been approaching her. Before she took notice of them and had time to gather an arrow she was already surrounded.

A man with sandy blonde hair stepped up and with a cheerful grin, as if he was seeing an old friend, he stated with an astounding amount of confidence: "This is a robbery. Please remove any items of value, you have upon you and relinquish them to me and my men. I understand, it is disconcerting to be robbed of all your goods, but you may find solace in the fact that they are going for a worthy cause, my lady?!" Robin Hood seemed slightly surprised at seeing a girl atop of the snow white stead. He had only seen the figure in the distance and had assumed that any unaccompanied individual riding, astride in breeches, had to be a man. So his amazement was justified. Especially, due to the fact that the girl did not seem frightful of him and his man, who she surely acknowledge as bandit. Rather, she had a knowing grin on her lips and looked delighted to meet him. She was most certainly not like any of the ladies he had meet at Nottingham. Most would be scandalized at the actions of this girl today and would have most likely fainted at the situation, now before the girl. As he continued studying the girl infront of him, who had despite all a confident look on her face, he could not help but find her beautiful. Especially, with the light of the sun gleaming from her fiery red locks and her pale, porcelain skin. She had delicate features and an expression of excitement, as red coloured her cheeks.

"You must be Robin of the Hood. I fear your reputation precedes you my lord." She added, as she saw the look on his face at her- someone he had never meet before- recognizing him. "You know my identity, my lady, but I fear I have not the same advantage." Robin stated with a cocky lock on his face, as she dismounted her horse. "Eloise of Chester, my lord, at your service" She mock curtseyed. "I have not seen you before, and I pride myself with knowing most everyone in this area." Robin stated. "Well, that is a gratification, I shall allow you to keep. I have recently arrived from Chester, which is some 100 miles from her and am currently staying with one of your old friends and, if my character reading is accurate, greatest supporter: Sir Edward of Knighton, my uncle." Eloise told Robin. "I did not know that Sir Edward had any relations. I see, well allow me to welcome you to Sherwood Forest, my lady." Eloise did not answer, but handed him her money pouch, the only thing of value she had on her person. She mounted Lark, but before riding of she said: "I shall console myself knowing that I lost my goods to a worthy cause." She flashed Robin Hood and his outlaws one last smile, before riding off back to Knighton.

As Robin watched the girl leave, he couldn't help the grin breaking out on his face. He had a feeling that things were going to get rather interesting with the new arrival.

* * *

It was dark, when Guy arrived back in Locksley. He was imperceptible, his attire and stead blending perfectly into the darkness engulfing him. After dismounting Judas and entering his home, he went straight into the kitchen. He did not wish to eat anything, but found a great need to drown his day in ale. Enduring the mocking taunts of Vasey, had become a daily routine and no longer bothered him, but today he'd had to watch the villagers of Locksley being mutilated. To be fair, it was him, who had given the idea, and he should have known better that Vasey would make true on his words to satisfy his blood lust. He should have not said anything, but seeing his people, who were supposed to be loyal to him, defend Robin Hood in face of such danger, made his blood boil. He had bellowed "Loosen your tongues, or lose your tongues!" before he had a chance to register his words. Vasey thought this perversion to be a delight and at each full hour, that his villagers would cease to cooperate, one more would forever lose their ability to speak.

Differently from what everyone thought, Guy did not delight in seeing this torture. He, unlike Vasey, did not think it was necessary to go to such extents. But he had given the idea, hadn't he? It was from his twisted mind that the punishment had sprung. Guy groaned and buried his face in his hands. He should not feel guilt, they had deserved the punishment. They could have stopped their suffering and the suffering of their friends and kin, but instead chose to defy him and anger him. Yes, they had deserved anything they got. They were warned of the consequences of defiance, and accepted them. He would not feel pity. Not for the old man, who had courageously defended his former lord. Not for the young boy, who idolatrized Hood like some legendary hero.

Guy banged his fist on the table, in frustration. He had been their lord for three years now, and they were still true to Hood. Still true to the Outlaw, he thought sneering. The one, who had abandoned them, while he, who had disciplined them, only received spite and impudence. This reminded him that he while carrying the title of Lord of Locksley, did not truly own the land. At the thought of having no true ownership and affluence, Guy felt despair and anger storm inside him, like a wild unleashed tempest. He threw the mug of ale against the wall, where it shattered and fell to pieces. Shortly, thereafter, Thornton came in to inquire about his lord's wellbeing. He was dismissed crudely. Gisborne did not retire for bed that night, nor did he leave the kitchen, where he wallowed in his misery. Eventually, tiredness overcame the lord. His last coherent thought being of the loneliness around him. Not a soul in his hall.

* * *

**To UKReader: Thank you for reviewing, yes, I've posted some pre-written chapters and I delight myself knowing that you enjoy my story. I hope that Guy wasn't to OOC, please tell me if you believe any characterizations to be off. I don't want to write a softy Guy. He is dark and twisted and let's admit quite evil. That's part of his charm. I hope that I captured my thoughts on Guy in this chapter. It is always a challenge writing his POV, since he is so complex. I hope Eloise is not an annoying Mary Sue.**


	5. Thou shalt not

chapter 4 outline

_"Thou shalt not Kill your fathers- destroy another life. Question everything we clung to for forever- design a better death. Confuse a liar with a saviour from fear. Create a myth and separate the chosen ones." Wherein lies continue- Slipknot _

~2 weeks later~

It had been two weeks,since Eloise had arrived at Knighton and she could sincerely not remember a time, where she had been insouciant for such a long intervall. She had gotten to know the servants at Knighton Manor and the people of Knighton, whom she thought to be quite agreeable. Her uncle had always treated them suitably, so none of the villagers showed her too much hostility and were not predestined to be averted to her, due to her relations. She had, particularly, bonded with one of the maids called Isabella, who similarly to her former nurse paid special attention to her needs. Contrastingly, Isabella was younger than Eloise by three years. She had, at first, been frugal toward Eloise, since she did not know the demeanour of the 18-year-old. But after having been exposed to her kindness and affable manners, Isabella had become more complacent at interacting with her mistress. It was unfamiliar for Eloise to consort with individuals closer to her age. Her nurse and mother were her best friends during her formative years. After losing her mother, Eloise had become withdrawn and had prefered her own company or the company of animals. She thought them to be creatures without malevolence and corruption, and felt more comfortable around them, than with humans. This was not only prompted by her father's behaviour, but also by seeing the actions of her father's colleagues, who would force their villagers into serfdom. The children at Chester had never truly felt comfortable around her, due to her father's position; eventually, Eloise had given up trying to fraternize with them. She was glad to have found Isabella, however. She was a dulcet girl and after having gotten over her initial wariness, she had grown an affinity towards Eloise.

She and her uncle had also gotten along splendidly. Eventhough, Sir Edward was at first bewildered by his nieces unlady-like behaviour, the two had grown a mutual congeniality toward the other. They would routinely dine together, where Sir Edward would relay her tales about his time as Sheriff and would inform her of life in the Nottingham area, and Eloise would tell her uncle about her childhood. She often did not go into detail, as she did not want to dishearten her uncle with long-past circumstances and dealings with her father. She did not find it necessary for Sir Edward to truly know everything about her and her father's dealings with her. It was long-past and, in a way, it was cherished, since it contributed to her becoming the person, she was today. She did not need his pity for components of her. Surprisingly, Robin Hood had made it a habit to visit her after she had retired from the evening. The first time she had entered her room to see the capped silhouette of the outlaw, she had gotten an immense fright, which had in turn amused him quite extensively. She had flusterdly demanded, how he had entered the room and had become quite embarassed, when he stated that he had obviously entered through her window. She had then inquired for the reason of his visit. She was flattered, that he merely wished for her company and from that night forth, they spent time together, either during Eloise and Lark's daily ride, or in the evenings, if it had not been possible for her to leave Knighton.

The only thing, which slightly bothered her, was that her uncle wished for her sense of propriety to be improved. He viewed her as quite wild, and undomesticated: two traits not kindly viewed in a lady of marriable age. The Lord of Knighton expected Eloise to wear dresses; he had gotten quite a shock, when he had seen her return from her first ride to Sherwood Forest in masculine attire. He had allowed her to keep her beloved breeches and tunic, but prefered her in feminine dress of delicate colour, as he thought them to fit her well. Eloise, who had spent her life until now avoiding feminine clothes to not further expose her gender to her father, was quite unused to wearing dresses, but did so anyways to please her uncle. It quite annoyed her, that her uncle would not accept her tomboyish nature. It did not sit too well with her defiant spirit, which she had inherited from her father. But, she did not wish to disappoint her uncle and so acquiesced to his wishes, whenever she was in his company. But, she would not be forced to wear dresses, if there was no need for it. This is the compromise she had come to, and would keep, for her headstrong nature would allow no less.

* * *

It was early morning and Guy was making his way to Vasey's study. Evenhough it was quite warm outside, fitting with the early spring morning, the corridor within Nottingham castle was still quite drafty. Little sunlight had penetrated through the thick stonewalls, resulting in a sparse illumination of the inside of the castle. He entered Vasey's dark room, to find the Sheriff engrossed by a document on the table that detailed this month's tax collectings. At the sound of the opening door, Vasey looked up to find the broody, dark-humoured man, who was his right-hand, entering his study. "Ah Gisborne! No time for pleasenteries. Let's get right down to business.", Vasey waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and shifted his attention from the leather-dressed newcomer to his document. "I shall need you to collect further taxes from the citizens at Nottingham. I plan to throw a feast for the lords of the surrounding area. It shall be drag, but it is necessary to maintain one's good relations, when one is immersed in politics. So see to it that it gets done."

"Yes, my lord." Gisborne answered in a short, but complacent manner.

"Good, now tell me what news have you of your persual of the outlaw, Hood? Have you made any progress?"

"I have not, my lord, but I believe that Hood would not be able to resist, if we were to raise the prize money of the archery contest at the May Festival. We could ouwit him and capture him then." At this Vasey looked up, with a pensive look on his face. "The only problem with that idea, Gisborne, is that Hood is not dimwitted and would see through this rather obvious plan. He would not show up and I would lose more money than necessary to a chimp with a bow. You have the whole of the Nottingham Guard behind you. All Hood has is a few misplaced village thieves. It should not be so difficult to capture him, despite your incompetence. Stop wasting my time with your la-di-da, and capture Hood, once and for all."

"Yes, my lord. I shall go see to my duties." Guy said with a laconic look on his face. Just, as he was about to leave, the sheriff stopped him. "Gisborne. We shall ride to Knighton, today. I have need to inquire after the tax collecting, during Sir Edward's last year, for the documentation lacks information. Be prepared to ride out, as soon as I am done here." Guy left, as Vasey dismisssed him with a simple wave of his hand. Today he would be riding to Knighton. He hadn't been consciously avoinding the area, but now he recognized the trepidation, which he felt. He also felt... excitement? He had not thought about the encounter with the girl on her white stead in the past two weeks. He had recalled fragments of the occurence. A tendril of firey red here. An upward quirk of soft, pink lips there. She had not been in his thoughts, but she had always lingered close by. Never straying too far off. He felt frustration rise within him. He should not feel apprehension, because of a girl, who had barely left infanthood. He was Guy of Gisborne, Lord of Locksley, Earl of Huntington and the vice-Sheriff of Nottingham. As such he was entitled to and had influence over any land in the surrounding area. With a new found determination, Guy strode off in the direction of the stables to saddle his horse, Judas.

* * *

She had been riding for a good hour now, through Sherwood Forest and she had still not meet Robin. This was not an unusual occurence, but today this made her feel uneasy. She had awoken with a queer anticipation, which predicted an extraordinary occurence throughout the length of the day. Eloise tipped her head back and breathed in the woodsy scent of the forest. This calmed her frazzled nerves a little, but still did not sucessfully eradicate the inner disarray, she felt. She frowned. She did not usually believe in instinct, rather relying on proven facts and sound predictions, but she could not ignore the feeling within her, which promised that after today her life would never be the same once more. She turned back and decided to return to Knighton. She had at first feared that her feelings pertained to Robin and his band of outlaws, but, assuredly, she would have heard any news about them in the gossip of the servants. She calmed herself with the certainty of Robin's visit later this evening.

As she rode past Locksley, she could not help but think of the dark,brooding stranger she had seen, when she had first arrived. She half-expected to see his dark figure on his horse, looming and guarding his lands, but as always she came up short. No, it was expected, Eloise thought with a tinge of bitterness. He was a busy man, being Guy of Gisborne, the Sheriff's right-hand-man, or his leathery lackey, as Robin often refered to him as. She had discovered the identity of her stranger, through Robin, as he had complained that Sir Gisborne had taken Locksley from him. At this revelation, Eloise had felt a fleeting pinch of disappointment. She shouldnt't have. The snappish way he had behaved toward her and the malevolent aura he exuded, while patroling the work of his villagers, should have been enough to clue her in, but she had failed to make the connection, until Robin had pointed it out to her. She could see that his people were unhappy. The man were labouring away on the fields, no doubt to fulfill the unrealistic harvest quota, that their lord demanded. The children played on the streets, but were visibly undernourished. She felt a pang of sympathy toward them, and that is when a plan started to form in her head.

* * *

Soon, she arrived in Knighton with a new found excitement, that she would always experience, whenever she learned a new skill, in hopes of impressing her father. She felt invigorated and refreshed at the prospects her mind had crafted. She dismounted Lark lost in her thoughts, to such an extent, that she did not take notice of the pair of unfamiliar horses in the stable. She was about to enter, when she heard a soft whimper coming from behind the abbuting shrubbery. At first, Eloise thought that it was simply her imagination, but moving closer, she could clearly make out the high wail coming from behind the dense bushes. Her curiosity was piqued and disregarding any propriety, she made her way, into the bushes, in the direction of the plaintive cry. Her dress was getting caught and ripped by the sharp branches. At one point, she had to start crawling, because the overgrowth was getting so thick that it would not allow her to make her way through erect. She then saw, that the source of the whines was a small fox, who had to be a cub, judging by its size and appearance. The fox had caught one of its small legs in a thorny branch and was struggling to free itself. Effectively, causing more damage to its tiny leg. Moved by compassion, Eloise immediately set out to assist the cub in this uncomfortable situation, but the animal immediately flinched from her, as she moved toward it. At her appearance, it frantically started to try and free itself, in fear of abuse due to its calamitous position. Eloise raised her hands in a placating gesture and schooled her features into her most soothing expression to try and convey that she would not harm the fox. Eventually, realizing that she meant it no harm, it became calm and looked upon her with a hazel expectant gaze. She slowly made her way to it and started to delicately free the animal's leg from it's confine. Except for soft, quiet whimpers of pain, the fox showed no reaction. She ripped a large piece of her skirt of and tied it around the bleeding calf. Seeing that the animal made no move to leave, Eloise smiled beatifically and said in a soft whisper: "I'll take you home with me, and I'll care for you. Would you like that?" The baby fox simply kept looking at her, but did not flinch when she moved to scoop it up into her arms to carry it. She made her way out of the shrubbery, taking care to not further injure the cub in her arms.

Once she had gotten out, she knew she looked a mess. The skirt of her dress was shreded and caked in mud and at the front a fair portion of her pale calves were on display, from where she had ripped the textile to fashion a make-shift bandage. Her red hair was in disarray and she assumed that she would have mud on her face as well, but could not tell before she looked into the looking glass. Perhaps, she would be lucky and would be able to go into her room, before her uncle discovered her unkempt look. She did not worry too much if he did discover her, as the worse she could expect was a lecture about proper, age-appropriate behaviour. With that thought, she entered the Manor, to freeze when she saw three masculine outlines in the hallway.

* * *

He had been conversing with the Sheriff and Sir Guy for the past hour. Sheriff Vasey had unexpectedly come to call on him, to clarify some confusion pertaining to the cataloguing of the tax collectings during his last year as a Sheriff. Sir Edward never enjoyed talking to Vasey. He thought the man to be despicable and unnecessarily harsh. It was not made better, that Vasey was constantly accompanied by Sir Guy of Gisborne, who managed to make Sir Edward's soul shiver with a single look from him. He had been relieved that the men had arrived, while his niece was out on her costumary ride. She was a free-spirit and eventhough Sir Edward wanted her to be more lady-like, he could not help but find her fierce behaviour endearing. In the past two weeks, he had come to be very protective and concerned for his kin. He enjoyed her company and her presence. He was without a doubt glad, that she had not yet met the Sheriff and Sir Guy. He had warned her of them. Cautioned her, and he rued that she was bound to meet them, when she would start to accompany him to the council of nobles. He was relieved to be able to put of this unfortunate meeting for a few more days.

Greatest was his shock, when the door opened to reveal a disheveled and savage looking Eloise, as she entered the manor unconcerned. The blue dress she had been wearing, was almost unrecognizable. The skirt was torn and caked with mood. A large piece had been torn off at the front, exposing her shapely, pale calves. Her long, red hair was in disarray and her pale skin was marred with a smudge of mud right on her left cheekbone. She carried in her arms a small animal-like figure, which he could not recognize at this distance. She looked startled, as she saw him and his guests and stared at him with large, unblinking blue eyes. She looked completely out of breath, as if she had just undertaken streinous exercise, as her chest was heaving with breath and her pale cheeks were painted pink. Once, Sir Edward was able to recover from his shock he gazed upon his visitors. Sheriff Vasey was looking upon the girl, slightly suprised, but with a look that clearly stated his disapproval and disfatisfaction. Sir Edward started when he had seen a softening to Sir Guy's gaze as he first laid eyes upon his niece. But it was so quickly gone and replaced with his usual steely glare, as he scrutinized Eloise,that Sir Edward assumed he had imagined it.

Eloise seemed to remember herself and curtseyed awkwardly. She looked upon the three man and Sir Edward could not help but notice that her gaze lingered upon the dark, leather-clad knight for a few seconds longer than on his companions. Their staring was broken by Vasey's obnoxious sneering: "Sir Edward, you really ought to take care of your villagers better. They look like beasts! Take an example on Sir Guy, his inferiors don't walk around like primitive brutes." Eloise fixed a glare at the Sheriff, that clearly showed her displeasure at his comment, but thankfully refrained from answering as she seemed to grasp, who the man in front of her was. "She's not a servant, Sheriff. This is my niece, Eloise of Chester. Eloise, these are Sheriff Vasey, the current ruler of Nottingham and Sir Guy of Gisborne, current Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntington." Eloise curtseyed one more out of courtesy and stated: "I feel off my horse, sir, and straight into shrubbery. Forgive my disheveled look. I promise, it is not a common occurence. I bid you not to admonish Sir Edward, for he treats his people with kindness. The situation of his subjects is far superior to the norm and gratifying. Not a common condition in this area, I fear." With that Eloise fixed Sir Guy with a proud, challenging, unrelenting gaze. In response, the dark knight seemed to tighten his jaw. Before the situation could escalate, Sir Edward infered: "Eloise, my dear, why do you not go up to your chambers. I shall be with you shortly." Eloise curtseyed and breathed past the men, up the stairs to her room.

Sir Edward bid the men farewell. His gaze flickered to the current Lord of Locksley, who was looking at his manor, with an unprecedented intensity. This visit had been most disconcerting. Not only had his niece inexplicably showed up looking like a barbarian, but the brooding vice-Sheriff had been acting most queer around his charge, staring at her with accusation and confusion. His attention was pulled to Vasey, as he stated: "Sir Edward, thank you for receiving us. Your help is most appreciated. It was a delight to meet your niece." He stated in a tone, that clearly suggested the opposite. With a curt farewell, both men rode off in the direction of Nottingham. Sir Edward shook his head and entered the Manor, to go a reproach his niece. He supposed, that had the circumstances been difficult he would have found the situation amusing.

* * *

The cobblestone roads of Nottingham were painted in darkness. The night was still and opaque, the nocturnal crepuscule only broken by the faint light of the moon. Except, for the occasional drunk, stumbling out of the taverns, the night was unfrequented and peaceful. But if one had looked closer, they would have seen a capped silhouette, which moved silently through the streets of Nottingham. The night seemed to favour this invader, since it added to the figure's concealment with the calignosity it provided. The masked crusader moved silently through the streets, with a sack filled with fare and money pouches. No one would take notice of the hooded templar wandering atop the cobblestones. Villagers would wake up the next morning to inexplicably find provisions and coins on their doorstep. They would think it to be a miracle, would praise the benefactor, who moved undetected through the nights a mask concealing all of the figure's features, except for a startingly blue pair of eyes. Tonight would be a turning point for the villagers at Nottingham, Locksley and the surrounding area. Tonight was the birth of the Shadow.

* * *

**Please review, everyone. I like them alot. let me know how I'm doing. :D This chapter was a bitch to write. I hope I got Vasey's character right and was able to keep all of the others in character, as much as possible. Both Isabella and the baby fox, are going to be important components in the later story, so don't think that I am just randomly throwing characters into the mix. I hope you guys enjoyed Eloise's development**

**lexie2- Thank you so much for reviewing and following. I read your Story "A voice in the dark" and I like it a lot. I hope you update soon :-). I hope that Eloise will be just what Guy needs and I fear turning her into an annoying OC. I also think that all Guy needs is a person to love him. I'm glad that you think he's in character. I hope you continue to enjoy my fic.**

**UKReader- You are one of my favourite people right now, because you are such a faithful reviewer. Thanks! I'm glad that you like the detail and don't think the story is too drawn out and the pace too slow. I have the tendency to go overboard with detail. I am glad you like my baby- Eloise. I hope I can keep her the way you describe her, as that is the way I imagined her. I think it's interesting that you would mention redemption, because I am going to touch on that a lot, and not only on Guy's part (spoiler !) I share your taste of baddy guy finding love and redemption with sprinkles of angst. I hope you continue to enjoy my fic. **


	6. A different coat

Chapter 5

_"And who are you, the proud lord said. That I must bow so low? Only a Cat of a different Coat. That' all the truth I know. A coat of gold or a coat of red. A Lion still has claws. And mine are long and sharp, my lord. As long and sharp as yours." The Rains of Castamere- George R.R. Martin and Ramin Djawandi (Blackwater)_

The Sheriff had been ranting for hours. Guy could clearly see that he was furious, due to the occurence of the past three days. For the past three mornings, the villagers of Locksley, Knighton and the citizens of Nottingham had been receiving food and medicine from a mysterious contributor. Vasey was furious that another would dare to defy his orders. It was against his law to feed the villagers. He would not have another Robin Hood, one was already enough of a headache. He fixed Guy was a piercing glare and strode up to him. Now, the sheriff was some inches shorter than Guy, but as he stared up at the dark knight with his most diabolical glare, Guy could not help, but feel intimidated. Vasey jabbed his finger into Guy's armour covered chest and sneered: "You. Fix. This." With that he strode off. Guy sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

The news Vasey received the following afternoon was like a ray of sun in an otherwise bleak horizon. One of his tax collectors had been shot by a mysterious archer. Vasey did not grieve the loss of live. The collectors were all replaceable and expandeable- this opportunity was not. Immediately, his devious mind had engined a plot to harm the outlawed Locksley. He would blame him for the death of the man. Everyone knew that Hood was an avid archer and a cynic toward tax collectors, the story would most definetly seem plausible. He despised Hood. He was a thorn in his side and the fact that people seemed to idolatrate him was not fortunate for Vasey's campaign. There was little Vasey cared for, except money and power. He had worked hard to acquire the ranks as Sheriff and he would be damned if a snot-nosed, self-righteous imp destroyed all his endeavors. Illustrating Hood as a killer would most certainly come as a shock to his affecionados. Their dear lord would be exposed as a violent and bloodthirsty sham. The villagers were so petty- they would feel betrayed. Their hero revealed as a caitiff. The thought caused an evil smirk to grace Vasey's face. Yes, perhaps, the villagers of Locksley would even start to respect Gisborne a little more. At this, Vasey rolled his eyes. He had given Gisborne all this land, but the tall man did not know what to do with it. Did not know how to deal with his villagers appropriately to ensure their minimal cooperation. Their blatant disregard for Gisborne as their lord, shown by their continual and unwavering support of Locksley was truly pathetic. But with his scheme perhaps Vasey would help Guy along. Seeing his subjects relinquishing their canonization to the former Lord of Locksley, was surely going to put Gisborne in a better mood. A happy Guy was, after all, an efficient Guy. If there was one thing Vasey could not criticize about Guy, it was his work ethics. He was hard- working and dedicated and Vasey did value him as his right-hand-man, more than he would care to admit. He thought the man was insufferable and his constant amiss mood grated on his nerves, but Guy of Gisborne was not someone he would lightly replace. However the past few days, ever since their visit to Knighton, Gisborne had been distracted and heedless. His airheadedness starting at the day, where they had simultaneously meet the niece of Sir Edward. Due to his distaste for the girl, Vasey failed to make a posible connection between his henchman's constant faraway demeanour and their meeting with this girl. He had truly not liked her. Thought her to be uncivilized. Worse than any of the lepers, which surrounded him at court. At least, they were mildly attractive to look at, or at least groomed themselves. He also did not care for the defiant, prideful look he had seen on her muddy face, after he had insulted her uncle. It exasperated him that he was bound to interact with the leper more than he wished for. He had need for Sir Edward and his expertise, eventhough he assumed the old man to be one of Hood's followers. How would Sir Edward react to the discovery of Hood's murderous actions? Remembering his villainous plan with a mischievious smile, Vasey left his study to spread the story.

* * *

The arrow pierced the centre of the painted target and landed on the tree with a dull 'thud'. It was a warm late March morning and the sun shone upon the two lonesome figures, which stood, their bows in hand, in the forest clearing. It had become routine that Eloise and Robin would test each other's ability with a bow and arrow and would challenge each other to see, who was superior in skill. Not surprisingly, Robin was often victorious, having fought in the Holy Land and perfected his technique, during his time as an outlaw. When Eloise had told him of her skill as an archer, Robin had inwardly rolled his eyes. He knew a few ladies, who prided themselves on having abysmal archery aptitude, while being passed off as experts by their instructors. Robin had been surprised at Eloise's adroitness with the bow and arrow, eventhough her technique was still faulty. Robin had grown quite fond of the girl. He thought her to be sweet, and delicate, but she also possesed a tempestous temperament, which he admired and which amused him in certain circumstances. He was surprised at the sometimes tigerish behaviour that was within this ethereal girl, and at the contrast of this behaviour and her usually genteel manner. She had never told him much of her childhood. When he had enquired about her life, before Knighton she had responded the bare minimum and been quite snappish, which did not suit her mellifluos voice. It was that instant that Robin had first recognized the perpetual look of sorrow, Eloise carried in her eyes. It did not matter what expression she wore. Even if she was shaking with mirth and her eyes got that glint of excitement usual to her, you could still recognize that melancholic undertone buried in the depth of those deep, warm orbs. Robin had often wanted to talk to her about it. Share his observations, but could never think of an appropriate way to share his thoughts with her. Whenever he touched upon her past, she simply became unresponsive and tried vehemtly, but discreetly to steer their conversation in a different direction.

She had seemed impressed with him and his time spent at the Holy Lands. She had at first seemed detracting when he had told her of his service to the crown, but after sharing that upon arriving he had discovered that every religion was entitled to the Holy Land, she had gotten a look on her face; reminiscent of the way his mother had looked at him during his first communion. A look filled with pride at and affection for him. That look had haunted Robin for the rest of the day. It had filled him with warmth and contentment. He was proud of himself for having evoked that emotion within her. He had definitely grown fond of Eloise- perhaps too much so.

Robin whistled low, as he went to retrieve her arrow. "That was a very good shot. Now we only have to perfect your stance and your skill shall rival mine." He said with a smile, as he handed her back the arrow. Eloise lowered her bow and with a cheeky smirk said with mock-reverence: "Who knew that I was capable of such improvement. My worship for you has only increased, prince of thieves, I lay my life and sword at your feet." Robin smiled and decided to join her in her teasing. "Yes, who knew women were capable of such improvement. I thought all their talent lay within home life. You have proven me wrong, brave female knight: the first of a kind." At that, Eloise turned from Robin, to hide her amused smile and prepared to shot another arrow at the target painted upon the old oaken tree north of the centre of the clearing. Focusing her concentration on the centre of the target, she warned with the most serious and sombre voice she could muster at this situation: "I would advice you not to mock me too much for my sex, dear friend."

"Why is that, Eloise? Surely you do not mean to threaten me. I fear, you are about as intimidating and imminent looking as Red." Robin had come closer judging by the increased proximity of his voice. At the sound of her name, the baby fox that Eloise had rescued 4 days ago raised her head in response. She had become a constant companion to Eloise, sticking closely with her saviour. She would accompany her and Lark on her rides out and would lie in the grass, closely to Lark, as her mistress would converse with the outlaw.

"No, but it shall be infinitely more embarassing when I defeat you." With that she drew back the arrow and released. The arrow barely missed the centre of the target. Eloise was about to lower her bow and go retrieve the arrow, when she felt Robin removing another arrow from her quiver. He raised her left arm, which held her white bow and inserted the arrow. He gently took her right hand and made her draw back the arrow. "Straigthen your back, raise your head, pull back with all force you have. Take a deep breath and as you exhale release the arrow." He whispered, his warm breath brushing the naked nape of her neck. Eloise did so and not surprisingly the arrow pierced the centre of the target due to Robin's assistance. She felt bewildered. Not by his actions, her former instructor had also often touched her to straighten and correct her posture. Eloise was bemused by the intimacy Robin's behaviour held. She was not blind. She had realized that Robin's touches had become more lingering, since he had told her of his experience at the Holy Land. She liked Robin- very much, in fact. She would imagine that her 8-year-old self would be completely and utterly infatuated with the outlaw. She had always imagined her knight as an adventurous, kind man. And Robin was nothing if not that. She thought him admirable, thought his views about the crusades and his loyalty to King Richard affable and relatable. This was the kind of man, she would have fallen in love with. Her Abelard. At the thought of the old tale, her mother's favourite, Eloise had to smile. It had been a long time she had not thought about the star-crossed lovers. Robin... He was a good man, one she could fall in love with, should fall in love with, for they shared similar views and got along quite well. But something had seemed amiss, when he had so intimately interacted with her. She could not pinpoint what it was for the life of her. Robin handing her back her arrow, shook her out of her musings. She fixed him with a cordial stare and told him that it was time to return to Knighton. She did not await his answer before scooping up Red and mounting Lark. Before riding off, she looked over her shoulders to see Robin watching her. She uttered a soft "Goodbye" before riding off in the direction of Knighton.

* * *

Isabella was laying out the dress, that she would wear tomorrow. It was beautiful, she supposed. Light blue in colour with textile roses of the same fabric as the rest of her dress, adorning the collar, which left her collarbones exposed. An attire much too handsome for what awaited her tomorrow. She dreaded the next day, as it would be her first time attending the council of nobles alongside Sir Edward. There, much to her displeasure, she would reencounter the Sheriff and Sir Guy of Gisborne. Her first impressions of the Sheriff had justified her prejudice against him, generated by tales of cruelty relayed to her by her uncle and Robin. He seemed a callous, grim man, who posessed a sadistic mind and an unrivaled deviousness. Sir Guy had fixed her with a stare so intense, that she squirmed under it. It had made her uncomfortable and it had taken all her courage to meet it, when she would have rather averted her gaze as he so adamantly scrutinized her. Seeing him at the Sheriff's side had been the ultimate proof, that her stranger and Sir Guy of Gisborne were one and the same, and she could not help but feel a pang of betrayal course through her. This confounded her. She had no reason to feel betrayed. He was of no relation to her, they had no ties whatsoever. Yet she had felt hurt that the man before her was capable of the heinous tasks, that her uncle described. That he was the devil incarnate. He managed to discompose her. At the thought of meeting him again tomorrow, an adroit feeling, which she would categorize as dread packed her. It felt as if hot, liquid iron had been poured into her stomach and her breath quickened with anticipation. Wishing to rid herself of this idiosyncratic emotion, Eloise turned the stool she was perched upon around and addressed Isabella.

"It has been some time, since we have conversed, dear maid. I fear I have neglected you. Please, tell me what news you have of your life." Eloise beseeched with a soft upward curve of her lips, as she continued to brush her long, fiery locks. Isabella looked up from the task of laying out her clothes for the next morning. "Do not feel any obligation to be kinder to me than necessary, my lady, I am not in a position to have any expectations of you."

"How often must I beg you to call me Eloise. My former nurse did it, the best friend I ever had. I want you to do the same, as you have assumed her position here at Knighton. Tell me. I wish to know. I seem to recall your confession to a partialty for the stable boy. Will you tell me more?" Eloise asked excitedly. Isabella smiled. Eventhough her mistress was three years her senior, she often behaved younger than Isabella, who had always been more mature than her age would suggest. Isabella had developed a closeness to the girl, as having worked at Knighton Manor most of her life, she did not get the chance to consort with others close to her age. Eloise was a person of contrasts, Isabella thought. On one hand, she had had to grow up much too quickly and in certain aspects was of an astounding maturity. On the other hand, the girl had managed to retain an innocence and naivety, particularly on the subject of carnal attraction. When Isabella had first told her of the boy that had caughten her fancy, Eloise had seemed in awe, which lead Isabella to believe that she had had no exposure to this aspect of her life. She had listened to Isabella talk about her affections with a childlike awe and curiousity that had stirred her heartstrings and invoked a motherly protectiveness. Even know, as Isabella indulged her and told her of the feelings that the stable boy had invoked in her; the desire, the passion, Eloise seemed enraptured, though uncomfortable if the redness of her cheeks were anything to go by. Affection welled within Isabella at how disconcerted Eloise seemed with the idea of desire and passion. She only feared that Eloise's naivety could be her undoing.

* * *

The council of nobles was about to start. Guy, normally, found this to be a boring, albeit necessary event. Today, however, he was excited, for they would reveal Hood's true nature to the nobles. Vasey would disclose Hood's homicidal behaviour and dispell any sympathy the noblemen held for the outlaw. Though he doubted, that they had any, since they too had been subject to the outlaws' ambushes, while venturing through Sherwood. Perhaps, the only one who had any sympathy left for Hood was the Lord of Knighton- Sir Edward. But the elder man was so self-righteous and principled, that he would never abide such a blatant disregard for godly will and would relinquish his loyalty to Hood. He had already seen the discord that the news had created amongst the villagers of Locksley. They were deeply perturbed at hearing about their former Lord's evil deed. Then they had grown indignant and felt betrayed. That was the problem of developing affections for other, Guy thought, since they were sure to disappoint you. Betrayal was the worst crime a man could commit. It was not murder, nor bigotry, nor blasphemy. It was betrayal. Guy was certain that the deepest and most agonizing circles of hell were reserved for traitors. Treachery was part of the human nature. It was a natural reaction to betray others, in your own favour. This was a lesson Guy had learned early on. Humans were simply too greedy, too leacherous, too intent on fulfilling their self-crafted purposes to not be inclined to betrayal. Though Guy disapproved of it, he feared that he too was inclined to it should his agenda call for it. He had already lost his soul. His sins too numerous. His remorse too gaunt, if not nonexistent. He was already ensured an one-way trip to the fiery depths of Hell. With this certainty, he had decided to make the most of his life and, through any means possible, achieve his purpose.

He watched as the nobles one by one entered the room. He was engrossed by his thought, but as soon as a glint of fiery red entered his vision he was immediately pulled out of his quiet musings. He looked up to find Sir Edward's niece, Eloise, entering the room behind Sir Edward. She was looking around the room with a light look of amazement on her face. This was the first time that Sir Guy could uninterruptedly study her face without any qualms or distractions. He did not know what made him stare at her so transfixedly. Perhaps he hoped to find that in reality she was not truly as lovely, as his mind painted her to be. Perhaps what held his gaze was the realization that she truly was as lovely, if not more beautiful than his perceived image of her. The first time he had seen her was atop of her mare, when she had asked him for directions. Her hood had partly obscured his view then. The second time was the time he and Vasey had visited Knighton to confer with Sir Edward. She had looked like a savage that time. With mud streaking her face, a completely unkempt look about her. As he recalled the memory, Guy grew warm with indignation and something else, which was far more pleasant, but entirely unwished for. He had resented her so greatly. Accused her of witchcraft, cursed her for the fact that she still appealed to him, even in that unflattering state. That he still thought her the most comely and alluring thing he had ever laid eyes upon. He had felt a surge of affection, at seeing the unkempt girl. Had admired her for her playfulness and virtue. Then he had felt white-hot desire course through him. His eyes had lingered upon her exposed creamy calves, her gleaming eyes, her red cheeks and her heaving chest. That moment he had become so aroused, that he would later take it out on one of the kitchen wrenches at Locksley that night after having arrived at his manor. His climax had been swift and surprising in its intensity, as he recalled the out-of-breath look of Eloise. He had imagined her beneath him. Her lovely pale cheeks dusted with a faint blush. Her chest rising and falling, as she fought to catch her breath and slow her gallopig heart. Her eyes gleaming with excitement and defiance. Her looking at him with that look of complete and utter delicate forbereance, that he could not ban from his thoughts since his first meeting with her, no matter how hard he tried. As she had gone up to her chambers Guy had felt confusion and indignation. He was compelled to accuse her of witchcraft, for he had never reacted to another person in this manner. Everytime her presence would invoke an ardor, which he was not satisfied with. Even now, she had him completely entranced. Under her spell. And she was so utterly oblivious to it. So unknowing.

The council of nobles had already started. Eloise had placed herself behind the chair her uncle occupied. She seemed uncomfortable and somewhat out-of-sorts. Guy also noted that she seemed to take great efforts to not look in his direction. Vasey was busy accusing Hood of his supposed crime of murder. Most nobles did not seem suprised. They had probably overheard the story in the gossip of their servants. A few seemed astounded, among them Sir Edward and Eloise. So great was her surprise that she blurted out: "Are you sure that Robin Hood is the culprit? It does not seem like something he would do." She averted her gaze to the ground, obviously embarassed and feeling contrite for speaking out of turn. Sir Edward covered his niece's hand, which rested on the upper ledge of the chair in a placating and steadying gesture. Guy's blood was boiling- not at her rudeness for interrupting the council, but at her apparent support of Hood. She seemed so sure of his virtue and seemed ademant to defend him. Guy felt a caustic feeling take place in his gut. He was furious at her. The fact that his subjects where loyal to Hood was a blow to his ego, but seeing her devotion to Hood, her obvious idolitration of the outlaw, was agony. He snapped with more harshness than necessary: "I'd like to remind you, Lady Eloise, that you are new to this area and have not yet dealt with Hood. I advice you to not let yourself be led on by heroic tales crafted by the minds of fanciful children, whose worship in the outlaw is misplaced." She seemed startled. "There have been more assasinations. I find myself obliged to persue Robin of Locksley, so that he may face retribution for his crimes. Gisborne, you shall be in charge of that." Vasey briefly addressed the brooding man on his right. At this Gisborne chanced a glance at Eloise to see her reaction to this decision. Her face was infuriatingly blank, as she schooled her features in an impassive, faraway look.

Shortly after, Vasey dismissed the council, and Eloise and Sir Edward sitting closest to the entry, were the first to leave. After all nobles had vacated the room, Sir Guy and Vasey exited through the back door and stood on the balcony, which faced the courtyard of Nottingham Castle. "With dogs." At seeing Gisborne's confused expression, Vasey rolled his eyes and reiterated "Go after Hood with dogs. Hunt him like a you would hunt a wild beast." Vasey turned to face the courtyard with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. Guy turned from the courtyard kept his eyes trained to the grey stone wall in front of him. After a few moments of loaded silence, Vasey contemplatively remarked: "I confess the leper does clean up quite well." Glancing over his shoulder to glance at the object of Vasey's thoughts, he saw Eloise nuzzling her white stead's nose affectionately. She seemed completely engrossed in showing her affections for the beast and had an assuaged, serene look on her face that caused Guy's heart to speed up. He again cursed his reaction and attempted to turn away, but it was like his eyes were glued to the scene in front of him. His body was disobeying his mind, as it expressed a dire need to continue gazing at this girl. At this moment, any resentment he had felt toward her dissipated and was replaced by a profound longing for the red-haired sprite. As if sensing his gaze, Eloise looked up through her eyelashes at him. She regarded him with an unreadable look on her face, before she mounted her horse and rode away. Guy did not avert his gaze until long after she had left.

* * *

**lexie2- thank you for faithfully reviewing. I am glad that you like the detail and disheveled Eloise as it was a cute and most amusing image to have. In this chapter I touched on Guy's feelings when he saw Eloise. So ya! I hope you enjoy this chappie. I anxiously await the update of 'A voice in the dark'**

**UKReader- I am glad you like the development. Thank you for reviewing XD. I hope you enjoy the chapter**

**WillowDamon17- You are the first person to favourite my story. You rock! :) I hope you enjoy the chapter**


	7. To inspire loyalty

Chapter 6

_"Hard to say what caught my attention. Vixen crazy, aphid attraction" Vermillion- Slipknot_

"You have heard about the accusations put forth against me.", Robin said with a dejected tone of voice, as Eloise arrived in the clearing that had become their usual point of meeting. "I fear there is not one soul who wasn't, Robin." She said with a sad smile, as she dismounted her steed and along with Red come over to join him sitting atop a fallen tree trunk. Dread filled Robin at the thought of her giving mind to the rumours- at the thought of losing her good opinion. He asked: "You believe these assumptions?" Robin was not a killer. Ever since arriving at the Holy Lands and seeing how erroneous and unjustified it was to spill Saracen Blood, he had made it a habit to not kill others without the direst need to. He did not wish to be branded as a killer, most certainly not by Eloise, whose good opinion he cared for more than other's. "I know you are not a killer, Robin. It does not suit you. Especially, after you having told me about your aversion to unnecessary blood shed." She said in her dulcet voice. Robin let out a relieved breath. "Earlier, I attended the council of nobles, alongside Sir Edward. I found out about the allegations, there. The Sheriff seems adamant to capture you and make you face his charges. They are going to hunt you, Robin. Gisborne is going to hunt you.", Eloise informed him with concern. Robin felt affection surge within him, at the girl's concern. "Do not worry yourself about me, my friend. I have continually outsmarted Gisborne. It shall not be different this time around." At this Eloise looked at him with slight indignation at his overconfidence. "Be careful that your supercilliousness doesn't turn into your downfall, Robin. Gisborne is not as incompetent, as you would assume and he is out for your blood. I believe that you are in serious peril." She did not wait for his response and scooped up Red. She mounted Lark and rode off. Robin was left dumb-struck.

* * *

Eloise was angry at Robin. She had felt indignant that he had simply disregarded her warning and concern. Robin was very self-assured to the point of ostentation, which was a flaw that she had discovered in her friend, since their earliest interactions. He should not so blatantly dismiss Gisborne. From what she had discovered of the man, he was ruthless and cruel and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. It was obvious that Gisborne had a deep and abiding hatred for Robin Hood, probably generated by the continual support Gisborne's subjects showed to their former Master. He had been furious with her, when she had defended Robin. She supposed that it had been rude for her to interrupt the council and speaking out of turn. Sir Guy had admonished her and chastised her, until she felt like a silly, castigated infant. This was probably the way he saw her, as well. He probably thought her improper and asinine. The way he had seen her at Knighton, feeding this opinion he had of her. This in turn caused her to become acrimonious, at him and at herself. She did not like that he had this image of her and she equally despised her concern for his opinion of her. The memory of his raspy, baritone admonishing her invoked fear and something else, which she did not wish to analyze, as it simply caused her more irritation. But as she was about to leave Nottingham, she had felt eyes upon her and looked up to find the Sheriff's right hand man with his grey orbs fixed upon her. Then, he had no longer looked at her with anger, but with another emotion that was obscure to Eloise, but that caused her heart to start pounding within her chest and for her to grow hot under his unwavering gaze. She was angry at Robin. Today, he had behaved like a proud, haughty child. But her scorn toward Robin could not match the anger she felt at herself.

* * *

Vasey had not been suprised, when he had found out about Hood's innocence pertaining the murders. No, he should have known that Hood was much too principled and diffident to take a life. Hood would boast as to how he would do anything to abolish Vasey and his corrupt regime, but the time Hood had had him at arrowpoint, could have easily killed him and escaped, his anxiousness had gotten the better of him and Vasey had escaped with his life. As long as Hood held onto his moral and decorous, he posed no real threat in dethroning Vasey. Hood's immaculateness would not deter Vasey's plans. The worst was already done. Due to several more assasinations of innocents, public opinion had turned against Hood. They all thought him to be a ruthless murderer and categorized him in the same metaphorical pigeonhole as Vasey and Gisborne. They all hated him now. All, except for one, Vasey suspected. He sneered, the leper living with Sir Edward was becoming a true and constant annoyance. Her blatant disrupting of the council and her apparent defence of Hood, had only added to Vasey's distaste for her. He would watch the leper closely. He had the disconcerting feeling, that she would cause him much trouble. But she could wait, for now she was harmless. He would focus his attentions on Hood and his band of idiotic outlaws, who were assuredly on the run from Gisborne and his squads of hunting dogs. The image of Hood and the merry men, who had caused him so much annoyance over the past months, running like scared little rodents, delighted Vasey. He would destroy Hood and keep the outlaw's head as a trophy, but not before disgracing him, so that his death would be as delightful for his subjects as for him. He would need to further flame the new hatred the people of Nottingham had for Hood. He would nurture this caustic feeling like a new born infant, in need of attention. For that a few more would have to die. Deaths for a worthy cause, Vasey thought with a sinister smile on his face. He ordered one of the guards standing at his door to fetch De Fourtney. He had a mission for the dark-skinned knight.

* * *

She had been avoiding Sherwood Forest for the past few days. She was still cross at Robin for the way he had acted at the clearing. Her annoyance had diminished, however when he had come to her last night with the news that Vasey had called off Gisborne and his battalion of hunting dogs. She supposed that she had been more angry than necessary at Robin, because she had worried about him. Despite being slightly more appeased, she had decided to avoid meeting Robin today on her ride. Last night, he had told her of his suspicion that the Shadow was the true culprit of the murders and had also confessed to his agreement with the Sheriff to catch the assasin, whose target now seemed to be Vasey. She had feigned interest and confusion at his assumption, claiming that until now the Shadow had only been associated with altruistic tasks and did not merit Robin's distrust. She clearly remembered the conversation:

_"Robin, are you sure about this assumption? The Shadow has not done anything to warrant your distrust until now. You two seem to be rather similar, I thought, both seem having the wellbeing of the poor in mind.", Eloise beseeched him. "Eloise, I do not know anything about the Shadow, except that he wanders through the streets of Nottingham at night, capped. I would not be so quick to dispell his culpability." Robin answered. _

Robin's added vigilance, did not deter her from going out as the Shadow last night. Robin was determined, but Eloise was nothing if not obstinate. She did fear that Robin would discover her and capture her, to deliver her to the Sheriff. She did not know, if his discovery of the Shadow's true identity would make any difference and it pained her that, she had to be wary of her friend. Eloise had decided that the best course-of-action was to keep her distance from the outlaw for a few days, until the real assasin had been discovered.

She steered Lark in another direction. They would not be riding through Sherwood Forest today. The horse seemed slightly startled by the change of route, but decided to appease to his mistress' wishes. Eloise was last in thought. She considered the new peril that awaited her as the Shadow. She scoffed slightly, she had never assumed that she would be watching out for Robin and fear his uncooperation with her scheme. She had planned to keep her identity a secret for as long as possible, but knew that Robin was going to be the first and hopefully the only one, who would find out who was behind the Shadow's mask. She was so absorbed by her meditations, that she did not realize that she had unconsciously stirred Lark toward Locksley. She was brought out of her reverie by viewing the current Lord of Locksley, looming over his people and land. He was once more in his usual dark attire atop of his black horse. Eloise suddenly felt a compulsion to ride toward the dark and brooding man. She had no reason to. Both times they had conversed he had been extremely short with her. But she now recognized that whenever she would ride past Locksley, she would look out for his dark, strong silhouette. Other than today, she always came up short. But she assumed that it was natural, that today he would be watching over his lands. The harvesting season was drawing closer and he had to make sure that his subjects would meet his no doubt unreasonable quota. Also, he no longer had the occupation of running through Sherwood Forest with his team of vicious dogs, hunting the outlaws like a pack of hares. Lark neighed. Eloise had been regarding Guy for a long time, indecisive and he could sense his mistress' desire to ride toward the dark man. She gently nudged Lark in the side and rode toward Guy at a slow trot.

He showed no acknowledgement to her approach. When she had almost reached his side, she greeted him with as much cheer as she could muster. Eloise thought that she had seen a slight stiffening of the man's shoulder upon hearing her voice. But he so quickly returned to his authoritarian and rigid pose, that she simply assumed it was a figment of her imagination. Guy nodded in greeting, but did not avert his eyes from the men working on his fields. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding to look at her and meet her gaze. "Good morning, Lady Eloise." With that he returned to ignoring her presence. But Eloise was determined: "I hope you are well this morning, my lord." "Yes, quite well. You are in similar spirits, I assume." It was not a question, but prompted here to continue conversing with him. "Yes, thank you. I find myself surprised, however. I often ride past Locksley and since our first meeting, I have not seen you here until now." At this Guy's interest seemed piqued, though he tried to maintain his neutral nonchalance, as he inquired: "You often ride through Locksley? Why?" "I do not ride through Locksley, I have not yet had a chance to look at your land, I am afraid my lord. I often ride past it, due to the fact that I have made it a habit to ride daily and explore the Nottingham area, which I am still quite unfamiliar with." "Unaccompanied?" With that Guy fixed Eloise with a puzzled expression. "Yes, my lord. Sir Edward trusts my ability to look after myself." "It is still quite improper. Why do you not allow me to show you Locksley, as you still seem unfamiliar it." Guy seemed thrown by the offer he had made, but quickly recovered his steely composure. Eloise acquiesced to his invitation by nodding, not wanting to deny the man's offer.

They rode silently throught the village of Locksley. She could see that Gisborne's subjects lived through hardships. They looked up at their master and the lady at his side curiously, while fixing Guy with a hopeful look, one that begged for help. Eloise saw that eventhough she tried to help them as the Shadow, it was still not enough. It grieved her to see people in such misery and she wondered, how these people had lived, while Robin was lord over Locksley. Her anger rose and before she could stop herself she broke the silence between her and Guy by asking exasperatedly: "Would it kill you to help one person? Is it so hard to be kind to your own people?" "I treat my people as I see fit, my lady. Please do not interfere in matters, which do not concern you. I assure you that my people live adequately." "You make them beg like dogs." Eloise spat venomously. Guy seemed taken aback for a moment by her vicious tone, having never seen this headstrong, tigerish side to her before. "It's all they know how to do" Guy answered as if stating the most natural fact. He heard Eloise exhale tiredly. "They won't grow to respect you that way, you know." She said with a softer tone. "You won't win their respect, or their loyalty through cruelty. Anything you hope to achieve, you will not do so by making them hate you." Guy looked at Eloise angrily. How dare she admonish him? Tell him what to do? "What would you know about leadership and politics? You are only a woman and should know that this isn't of your concern." She didn't seem taken aback by his tone. She fixed her gaze forward and with a small, sad smile playing on her lips, she answered: "You are right. It is not my place. I do not know much about politics. But I know that if I were a leader: I'd rather be one that did not demand respect. But inspired loyalty." Guy did not know how to answer to that.

* * *

They rode on in silence until they reached Knighton Manor. Eloise looked at Guy with a polite and grateful look on her face and sincerely thanked him for accompanying her on her ride. She bid him farewell, before making her way to the stables. Guy pondered on their brief conversation. He knew that he was a severe ruler. One that was intolerant to any faults in his subjects. He demanded their cooperation and respect, often through cruelty. He had been lord over Locksley for 3 summers and 4 winters now and his subjects were still true to Hood. Not anymore now, that they suspected him to be a murder. But even if they had misgivings toward the former Lord of Locksley, it did not mean that they were anymore loyal to Gisborne. To inspire loyalty? How was that even possible. Gisborne had not managed to achieve that goal with force. So how was it possible to inspire loyalty? She had seemed so assured of her answer. So confident in her belief. She had seemed at peace. A state of mind that Gisborne had never experienced. All his life he had been plagued by his uncertainity and his greed. Having achieved a portion of his original intent, Gisborne now had to labor to protect the fruit of his work. He was now lord over Locksley. Had power and money. Why was he not satisfied? Why was he not at peace? Why was he still plagued by uncertainty and agitation? Why could he not simply be content like Eloise? But that was inaccurate, Eloise was not content. He could plainly see it in the sadness she carried in her eyes. No matter what expression she wore, it was always there unrelentingly. That undertone in her shining blue eyes that made her so heartbreakingly exquisite and real, that it often sent a pang through Guy. Caused a fire to light up within him, that he assumed would only be soothed by contact with her, by touching her, looking at. Guy feared that these same things that he believed would calm the disarray she managed to generate within him, would only add to the burning inferno that raged on inside him, when in her presence, when she was in his thoughts. She had haunted his thoughts the past few days. The way she had looked at him, before departing from Nottingham. The more he interacted with her, the more material there was for his thoughts. The more he tried to push her aside, the more central and prominent she became. Guy was submerged in agony, but it was so sweet an agony, that he feared the moment it would cease.

* * *

It had been an easy night. The Shadow had not chanced upon Robin or his outlaws or any of the Nottingham Guards. As the figure, unsuspectingly entered the chamber through the large window and situated itself in the room it was startled out of it's self-content reverie by a cocky voice, it only knew to well: "I was wondering, when you were going to return." The Shadow spun around to see that Robin Hood had come forth from the shadows in the room and now stood confidently in front of it. Quickly the figured acted on it's instincts and grabbed the small dagger from the belt and assumed a defensive, crouched position. The Shadow would not go down without a fight. Would not passively allow its capture. Hood snorted at the scene in front of him: "Put the dagger away Eloise. You look ridiculous." Seeing no change to the position of the masked figure in front of him, Hood sighed with dramatic mock-annoyance: "You have my word that I won't hurt you. I simply came to talk. I promise, if my reassurance still means anything to you." Slowly, Eloise lowered her dagger and became less stiff and on-guard. She pulled off her black mask and the cloth, which covered the lower portion of her face and adressed Robin: "What are you doing here?" He answered: "I came to visit you, since you did not come to Sherwood for the past three days. Then I saw the Shadow coming out of your window. I was alarmed, feared he had harmed you, before leaving you. Greatest was my surprise that when I entered your room, to find you were gone. I was puzzled at your disappearance, but after connecting the dots, I solved the riddle. You were not in your room, because I had previously seen you leave." "Congratulations", Eloise stated drily "If you think I am going to simply accompany you to the sheriff, you are wrong, outlaw." Genuine hurt passed passed over Robin's feature and he asked: "Did you truly believe that I was going to deliver you into the clutches of the sheriff, knowing your identity. Do you truly regard my friendship toward you as so superficial. Additionally, I would never condemn an innocent man- or woman, in this case." At this Eloise's interest was piqued. They had discovered who was responsible for the assasinations. Robin then told her that the true murderer was a castle guard, who held a deep-seated grudge against Vasey and tax collectors and that they had exposed him, when he had tried to attack Vasey in a village, but was only able to exterminate the deputy, who looked very much like the Sheriff. Robin's reputation had been restored and the villager's were once more reassured of Robin's virtue.

As Robin was about to leave, he stated: "It makes sense now. Why you seemed so determined to defend the Shadow. I admit that I had grown quite envious that you seemed to have replaced me as your idol.", he stated with a mischievious smile. Eloise rolled her eyes good-naturedly and responded: "How ever did you survive? Don't break your neck, Hood." With that she turned from him, effectively dismissing him.


	8. Self-obliged Redemption

chapter 7

_"I exist through my need to, self-oblige. She is something in me that I despise." Vermillion- Slipknot _

The April sun was shining on her face, illuminating her soft, ivory skin. A feeling of nostalgia gripped her, as she felt the soft, slightly moist from the dawn grass beneath her and she breathed in the crisp scent that only trees in the early morning could excrete. Nearby was a patch of blooming heathers, flowers she had always adored for their understated beauty and discreet scent. She could hear the languid buzz of insectoids and the faint awakening chirps of the larks, as the forest rose from it's nocturnal rest. Her serene and content introspection was broken by a cheery voice, whose sound had become a comfort to Eloise. She flipped so that she was lying upon her stomach and could better observe the approaching sandy-haired outlaw that was Robin Hood. Eloise smiled as she saw Robin's eager facial expression and silently watched him approach her.

"I thought you were asleep on the grass, Eloise. You looked so at peace." "I generally feel at peace in the forest, Robin. My old Nurse Matilda would joke that I grew up in the woods, for I would spend so much time in the forest surrounding chester. I suppose this place reminds me of my favourite location- a meadow. It even has heather flowers, reminiscent of my childhood playplace." Robin lay down beside her. "You know, this is probably the most you have told me about your life before Knighton. Why do you not tell me more?" "I fear my life is not as exciting as yours Robin. I am not a former crusader. My story would bore you." With that she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on her arms, which were crossed out in front of her. "Try me." Robin whispered in her ear. Eloise sighed: "Truly, Robin. There is not much to tell. My mother passed away 8 years ago. From what I remember she was a kind warm woman. My nurse Matilda raised me. My father was a cold, haughty man, who did not care too much for me. His death was the reason I came to Nottingham." "You and your father did not get along?" Eloise suspired and lay on her back. She closed her eyes to shield herself from the sun, whose rays had grown in intensity during the conversation. "No, Robin we did not. My father always resented me for having been born a woman and I aspired to earn his admiration. I could never redeem myself in his eyes for my sins of birth." "There are worse crimes than that", Robin stated quietly.

She turned to face Robin and got a pensive look on her face. "What do you think about redemption, my friend?" Eloise wondered. "Redemption. I think it is wonderful, just impossible to achieve. Mortal's holy grail, I suppose. But inexistent in most cases." "Inexistent? Impossible to achieve? Robin you jest! Redemption is always possible, the moment I no longer believe in redemption shall be the moment I lose faith in humanity." "You still possess faith in humanity?! I don't see how you can, faced with all the cruelty and violence crafted by humans. We fight a war that has no purposes. A blasphemous war, where we defy deific will for our greed and self satisfaction. I have no hopes for the redemption of human race." "I don't see, then, why you day in, day out risk your life, for creatures that you deem unworthy. People, who you have no faith over." "It is not them I speak of, Eloise. You know that. They are innocents, simply trying to survive in a foul world that is ruled by people like Vasey and Gisborne. Surely, you do not believe them capable of redemption." "I believe everyone is capable of redemption, Robin. Everyone is able to shame themselves for their sins. Everyone is able to regain God's pardon, no matter how heinous their deeds, as long as their contrition is genuine. Even people like Gisborne and Vasey, who are riddled with sin. But then again, who hasn't commited one. He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone." "I fear I find you naive then, my friend. You see goodness where there is none. Your father did not find redemptition before death, did he? Not when you speak of him with so much resentment." Robin defended his views. "No, he did not. But he never wished for it. Never strived for it and that is why he died with all his errors weighing down his stony heart. Let's cease this discussion, Robin, you will not be able to change my opinion. The day I relinquish my faith in redemption, in humanity is the day I lose hope in my own salvation." They were silent from then on. Eloise turned away from Robin and lay on her side. She thought about the burden on her father's soul, the weight of the chains created by his cruel indifference, which weighed down his spirit. At thought of her father having died with his deeds weighing him down, pity filled Eloise's heart and tears welled up in her eyes. They finally spilled, when she thought of the possibility of a similar fate awaiting her, on her deathbed.

* * *

He found himself in front of Knighton Manor, before he could consider his actions. Having completed all of his tasks, the Sheriff had dismissed Guy early. From then on, rational thought had left Guy and he had acted simply on his body's urges and instinct. He had not made a conscious decision to come to Knighton. It seemed as if an invisible string existed that was pulling him toward this place despite all resistance, despite Guy's ruminations. He still found himself led here, betrayed by his body and his desire, right to her doorstep. He had tried to push her out of his thoughts, to ban her from his contemplation. Mostly with ale and other women. Ale, which had always been one of his faithful companions had betrayed him, making his thoughts on her more prominent. His musings more introspective. She had caused him to reflect upon his past deeds. His cruelty toward others, in his pursuit for power. He was not ashamed that he was driven. He wanted something, he would get it. He had never looked upon his achievings with resentment. Had always been proud of his treasure and had been at peace with what had to be done in order to achieve that. No, he never looked upon his deeds with any guilt, in the past. He still did not. Though if he would give any thought to his recent drunken musing, he would find himself severely contradicted.

When he used one of his kitchen maids or a tavern wrench, as his districation, he would find after having been satisfied, that they resembled each other. They had red hair, pale skin or blue eyes. Though they bore resemblance to her, they were not the same. Their skin would not be as soft and warm, as he had imagined. Their hair not as firey red, nor as soft. Their eyes not carrying a defiant glim, contrasted by a sad undertone. The first time he had thought about Eloise, while taking his pleasure from another, he had taken the opportunity to pollute the beatific image he had of her. If he imagined fornicating with her with the same harshness as usual, he would come to regard her the same way he regarded all the other women. As a tool of pleasure and satisfaction, but which warranted no other thought beyond that. So he imagined her, but he could simply not equate her with the wrench that was currently beneath him. He climaxed not to the thought of screwing her, but to the thought of it being her that lay beneath him. To the thought of him exploring every inch of her dainty, delicate figure. Not exempting an inch of her creamy, porcelain skin from his attention. After that, he feared that one night with her would not be enough to satiate his desire and that every second he would spend with her would increase his hunger. Him never having enough of her, always wanting, needing more. The more he pushed her away, the more central to him she became.

He entered Knighton to be received by Sir Edward's manservant. The man immediately set out to apologize for his Lord's absence. Guy sharply cut him off and asked to see Eloise. The manservant seemed slightly surprised at Sir Guy's demand, but complied nonetheless by guiding him to the main hall. Guy found her sitting on a chaise close to the window, no doubt to absorb some of the external sunlight. Her appearance now, greatly differed from the way he had last seen her look at Knighton. She was wearing a light pink dress and her red tresses were bunched up in an intricate braid, that was pinned up to encircle her head. She looked like a lady and was putting all her attentions on the task before her. It seemed as if she was doing some type of embroidery. Seeing, the look of annoyance on her face, Guy could tell that she found the task exasperating. A tiny fox lay at her feet, and he assumed that it was the cub he had seen her carry the last time he had visited Knighton. Eloise's attention was pulled from her embroidery by the manservant's introduction. She looked up startled and looked at him for a few moments. She seemed confused at first, no doubt questioning the reason for his presence, but then her eyes softened a fraction and there was a curl of her full, red lips upward, as she regarded him. The tender look she was giving him, made his breath hitch in his chest and at that moment he forgot who he was. He forgot that he was a foul man, riddled with sin and malevolence. At that moment he was simply content looking upon this woman, who stirred something within him. A woman, who was his opposite in every sense. She embodied kindness and benevolence. She was selflessness and clemency incarnate. She had the kindest heart and upon seeing the sunlight gleam from her red hair, he wondered if she perhaps was not one of God's angels sent down to this world. On numerous of his journey he had heard of tales of celestial creatures from other knights, who frequented the inns to recover from the exertion of their journey. Tales of miraculous creatures with unrivalled beauty that stole men's heart, before disappearing into thin air. He had always dismissed their tales as drunken, heart-broken ramblings, no doubt generated by a castle servant that had not reciprocated the teller's affection. But now he wondered, whether there had not been a kernel of truth in these tales.

Her dulcet voice shook him out of his reverie: "Good morning, Sir Guy. I fear, my lord Sir Edward has taken his leave. I do not know, when he shall return, but I shall be happy to relay any message you have for him." "I did not come to call upon, Sir Edward, my lady." She at first looked confused with that piece of information, but after comprehending the hidden message in his statement, she averted her gaze from his and focused her attention on her embroidery. He smirked at the shyness of the girl. He was happy that he had managed to disconcert her. It served her well for confusing him all the time. She focused her attention of the embroidery; did not even look up as Guy crossed the room and came to rest upon the window ledge, his figure impeding the entry of sunlight. He opted not to speak. He was not the greatest conversationalist. He simply contented himself watching the woman before him.

Tenderness rose within his chest, as a frustrated, indignant look crossed her delicate features and she scrunched up her nose in annoyance. She seemed to have trouble with the craft on her lap and upon seeing her helpless, Guy felt affection course through him. "You have no idea what you are doing, do you?" Guy scoffed. Eloise sighed wearily. "No, I never learnt the art of embroidery. Nor, did I ever have any interest to learn it. Sir Edward asked me to attempt it, but I fear I shall have to disappoint him, as I am abysmal at it." "I thought embroidery was a common talent among ladies." Guy wondered aloud, smirking at her. "My mother was quite skilled at it, I believe. She would spend hours doing it. I do not seem to have inherited her skill. I am not like other ladies." With that she looked up at him with an amused smile. "No, you are not." Guy stated in complete seriousness. At the change of mood of their conversation, Eloise's smile dropped and she started regarding him with a searching look. In fear of what she would find, where she to continue studying him further, it was Guy's turn to avert his gaze. An uncomfortable silence spread through the room, both individuals not knowing how to recover the previously care-free and jovial atmosphere.

Guy cleared his throat. "My lady, I fear that I shall have to take my leave now. Thank you for your hospitality." She rose to no doubt escort him out "Please, do not trouble yourself. I shall find my way out. However not before extending an invitation for tomorrow. I was thinking that we could ride out tomorrow, since you do not yet know the whole of the surrounding area." Guy cursed his impulsiveness, he had not meant to invite her for a ride-out, just as he had not meant to offer his guidance through Locksley. He chanced a look at her. With a soft, friendly smile, she accepted his offer with a nod. Feeling appeased, Guy bid his farewell and left Knighton Manor.


	9. The passion of the wolf

chapter 8

_"In wildness is the preservation of the world. So seek the wolf in thyself"- Of Wolf and Man, Metallica  
_

On silent feet, the Shadow made its way through the village of Locksley. Disguised in its usual attire of hood and mask, the figure would have been unrecognizable, would have blended into darknes, had it not been for the treacherous moon that had been shining so brightly on this spring night. Dawn was not far off and the figure hastened its pace to carry out its task. The Shadow was once again on duty and determined to fulfill its goal. The silhouette took great care to not be detected. The Lord of this land was unforgiving and merciless; discovery through him was fatal and a way to ensure a trip to the gallows. The Shadow had continously stolen glances at the unlit manor, which loomed in close proximity with menace. The capped crusader never enjoyed delivering food and other provisions to Locksley, due to the threat their master imposed. The people of Locksley were surely more in need than any of the others, but the trepidation the Shadow felt toward the tough master was a hindrance to the improval of their situation. But the Shadow was headstrong and, admittedly, foolhardy and disregarded the danger posed by Sir Guy of Gisborne, in favor of helping the villagers.

The figure was startled, when the Shadow heard horse hooves approaching from the distance. Quickly, it tried to find concealment in the shrubbery, which lined the roads, before horse and rider could detect the masked wanderer. Assured that the rider would not take notice of it, the Shadow set out to see, who had disrupted the quiet of night, to find that it had been the dark knight, the object of its previous introspection. The Shadow continued to observe, as the master of the village, made his way to the quiet Manor. Upon his arrival, he dismounted the horse, which was almost unseen in the opaque nature of night. None of the knight's usual elegant gracefulness was to be seen, as he stumbled after dismounting his stead. He did not bother to unsaddle the horse and simply tied it, in front of the Manor, to prevent the horse's escape. He then walked shakefully and unsurely to the Manor. So queer was his behaviour, that the Shadow worried he had been injured today. However after further meditation, the Shadow recognized that the knight's wobbly gait was due to intoxication. It waited a while to be assured that the Lord of Locksley had retired for the evening. Not that in his drunk condition, he would have been much of a risk for the agile Shadow. With a shaking of the head, the Shadow pondered what had warranted the henchman of the Sheriff to become intoxicated to such an extent, while making its way to its stead.

* * *

Eloise was awoken by a cheerful Isabella. Still half-asleep, she did not catch anything her animated maid told her. She also wondered why she was being awakened so early by Isabella. She did not usually break fast with her uncle Edward, favouring their evening meals. Isabella often wondered about her mistress' late sleeping patterns. Perhaps, her lady had to deal with insomnia, no matter what time she retired she would always sleep until late the next morning, as if she had spent the night until dawn awake. As she gazed upon her torpid mistress, eyes rimmed red, red tresses in disarray, she felt pity at waking her so early. It was apparent that Eloise had not gotten a good night's sleep. However, today her lady had an appointment with Sheriff Vasey's right-hand-man. At the thought of the handsome, leather-clad knight, a shiver of dread coursed through Isabella's spine. She had never met the man, thankfully, but acquaintances of hers that resided in either Locksley or Nottingham had told her tales of the Dark Knight, which made Isabella's blonde hair stand on end. According to them, the man was the devil incarnate and to be avoided as much as possible. Gossip had spread quickly through Knighton Manor when Sir Guy of Gisborne had come to call upon Eloise and all the servants had wondered what the cold, aloof man had wanted with their mistress. Later, Eloise had told Isabella that she would have to awaken early the next morning, as she would ride out with Lord Gisborne, who had apparently offered to show Eloise around.

Eloise lay back down and pulled her covers over her head to block out the brightness of the morning. "Isabella, please leave me. I am still tired. I shall be quite cross with you, if you force me to wake up." She groaned. Isabella, simply smiled, and walked over to her mistress pulling the covers off her. "I would gladly allow you to continue resting, but as you are quite aware, Sir Guy shall be calling on you to ride out." "Tell him to leave and come back another day." Eloise mumbled sleepily. At her maid's insistence, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She did not know why she had accepted Sir Guy's invitation. She thought him to be vile, and cruel. She detested his malevolent behaviour toward his own people and despised all he stood for. Furthermore, any interaction between them was bound to be uncomfortable and strained. Guy was not the best conversationalist and the silence, which often surrounded them was uncomfortable and tense. Eloise was not looking forward to this ride out, was cursing herself for accepting. But... he had seemed so uncomfortable, so human when he had extended her the invitation. She did not have the heart to refuse him.

Eloise rose to ready herself for the ride out. Perhaps, it would not be as bad as she thought.

* * *

It was as bad as she had imagined it to be. Guy was more brooding and silent than normal, due to his bad mood. It appeared that Sir Guy did also not get a full night's sleep and had probably tortured himself out of bed out of courtesy. It was obvious, however, that he was exhausted due to the slight redness of his eyes and his gruff mood. As a result, they had barely spoken and any conversation attempted by either party had quickly ended, only adding to the awkwardness between the pair. Eloise chanced a glance at the tall man, riding beside her. He looked clearly unhappy at how this situation was turning out. In a last desperate attempt, Eloise broke the silence; "Sir Guy, why do you not tell me about yourself." He kept his gaze trained on the forest before him, and spoke in a deep raspy voice: "I would not know where to start, my lady." "Tell me about your like and dislikes." The only indication that Guy had heard her, was him glancing at her briefly. Otherwise, he remained silent. Eloise resisted the urge to sigh exhasperatedly. She didn't know why she kept at this painful attempt to spark conversation, to consort with him, but did so nonetheless. "For example, I like riding out on my horse Lark with Red. I like frequenting the woods, for I have always felt more comfortable within them. I dislike being told what to do, though normally I end up acquiscing to the other's will, if I care enough about them." She grew silent after that. "I suppose... I like being Lord of Locksley and I dislike... losing." Guy said after a pregnant pause. At seeing his cooperation, Eloise fixed him with a dazzling smile.

Soon they arrived in a clearing. It was not the one that she and Robin frequented, she had made sure to steer clear of that section in the forest, for fear that the Outlaw should appear. This patch was charming though. It was much closer to Knighton, as it had taken them less time to reach it, than it would take for Eloise to arrive at her meeting place with Robin. A stream with clear water flowed through the north of the defoliated area and Eloise dismounted Lark before guiding him to the water source. Her horse seemed thankful for the refreshment, as did she since she had grown hot under the heavy dress, that Isabella had persisted she wear. It was extraordinarily warm today. Eloise knelt down and pulled her sleeves up to cool down her overheated arms, and give her some refreshment. The cool water of the stream was soothing, as she heard Sir Guy approaching no doubt to offer his horse the same respite Lark had received. He stood still for a long moment, longer than was usual and Eloise looked back in confusion. Sir Guy was standing a little behind her and he was fixing a burning gaze upon her arms and the scars, which littered it. Remembering the appearance of her arms, Eloise scrambled to push down her sleeves and erect herself to stand in front of Guy, who was fixing her with an unreadable look in his face. She schooled her features in the most pleasant look and suggested that they sit under a tree, before resuming her ride. Guy simply kept looking at her. Seeing that she was not going to receive a response from the pensive man, Eloise picked up the reins of her horse and walked past him to a tall oak, which offered a pleasant shade. Eloise's actions had obviously prompted Guy, who laid out a blanket on the ground, on which they could both take their rest.

They sat in silence for awhile. Eloise knew that Guy wished to address her scars, but he did not know how to approach the subject. She bit her lower lip in worry. Unsurprisingly, it was he who broke the silence: "Do you have any stories of your childhood, you wish to share?" At seeing her nonplussed look he added. "Stories, which you enjoyed to her when you were young." Eloise sat contemplatively for a moment, before taking a deep breath to start her tale: " _Once upon a time_, there was a wolf, and this wolf was all alone. All of the other wolves had been caught or killed or driven off. But this last wolf, he stayed. And he did all of the usual wolfish things. He lived in a cave deep in the forest. He raided the occasional flock for a stray sheep. He also would appear from time to time late in the evening on a trail from the fields running down to the village to frighten some milk maid or herds boy coming home a little too late from the watch. And this gave rise to the stories of great, gnarled, bloody teeth and wet, long, lolling tongue and fiery, red, hungry eyes... the wolf had quite a reputation in the village.

But that was not the worst of it. The most horrible thing of all, the thing that froze the souls of the old men, and caused the red faces of the young people to blanche, and the heads of the children to go deep under bed covers at night was what the wolf would do from time to time, in the cold crackling air of the frosty silver moon, high on the stark peak of the stoney hill near the village. He would sit up there and howl, howl with the sound of a thousand midnights down in a murky bog. Those who heard it swore it was a sound that only a beast could make whose soul was tortured and lost forever. And it chilled to the marrow of everyone who heard it... everyone, that is, except one person. For there was a child, who lived in the nearby village and who nobody in the village understood. The child's father was cold and aloof toward the child. Did not care for the child at all, though the child would undertake any endeavour to earn the father's affection. The child was lonely and grew longing, when it heard the cry of the wolf in the middle of the night.

One night the child decided that it would persue the wolf, in hopes of finding in it a companion. Also the child thought, that by taking care of the wolf and eradicating it from its wild, savage, tempestous ways, it would finally earn the father's appreciation, since the father routinely complained about the damage the wolf would cause by attacking his sheep heard. So the next morning, the child sat out to search for the wolf in the wood. The child searched the entire day, and as it was about to give up, it found a cave and decided to venture into it. To its delight, therein lay the wolf who had injured its leg, while hunting in the forest. The child immediately went up to it, in its naivety, to try and lessen the wolf's pain. The wild animal snarled and scratched the infant's arm with its long, sharp claws. It tried to bite the child and growled aggresively at the child, everytime it tried to approach it. At night the child returned to the cave and saw that the wolf was asleep due to its exhaustion. Carefully, the infant tended to the wolf's extensive wounds. Weeks passed, where the child would tend to the wolf, nursing it back to health The wolf still treated the child poorly, scratching and biting it whenever it tried to pet it or give it food. But it started to grow less wary of the child, after a time.

One day, the father had been particularly harsh toward the infant, and it had gone crying to the cave, which had become a place of comfort, despite the harsh treatment the child received there. As the child lay crying, it felt a soft, furry nuzzling on its cheek. The child raised its head to find the wolf had approached it and started to lick away the infant's tears. From then on, the wolf became more ameanable toward the child, allowing it to feed him and pet him and properly take care of his wounds.

The day the child knew that the wolf was able to walk again, was a sad day for the child, for it feared that the wolf now restored to its former health and independence would abandon the child. Dejectedly, the child made its way to the cave to find the wolf there waiting for it. The wolf had not left despite no longer requiring the child's nurturing. That moment the child knew that the wolf loved it and that the infant loved the wolf in return. The child remembered the howling of the wolf. The sweet, sad song that had called the child toward him and recognized it as a cry for an end to solitude. The cry was to banish aloneness. It had reached out across the miles and the years and touched the child. And it had guided it. The child knew this now. With its heart full and its eyes afire in understanding the child spoke back to the wolf with a smile. At that moment, the child and the wolf were one heart. They became the best of friends. The wolf would only kill other animals at the child's command. It was obedient and was a constant companion to the child. The infant no longer felt lonely and abandoned. The void created by it's mother's death, assuaged. The wolf caused no more troubles for the villagers. One day, the child decided to take the wolf to its father. The child would show the father the endeavour it had undertaken, for the child still coveted the father's affection. Was greedy for love and companionship. And this greed would destroy the child. The father was shocked, when the child showed it the wolf and ordered it to be killed. As the child laying crying in agony at side of its dying best friend, the father told the child, that he had been merciful toward the wolf. Put it out of its misery, because the child damaged the wolf for it had taught it how to love, and beasts like that were not meant to know love. The child's grief knew no bounds and it continued to cry until the father struck her, for he had no patience for her tears. At that moment, the child had learned two lessons. One being that, no matter, what anyone says, no matter how vile the creature, it is still able to love. The second was that it was possible to hate a person so much, while still loving them all the same. For at that moment the child hated her father, but could not help still loving him." As she finished her tale, she turned around to look at Guy, to find that he was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. She did not know what Guy saw in her gaze, but whatever he had read caused him not to say anything in response to her tale. And for that blessed silence, she was thankful.

* * *

Story inspired by "Wolf and Boy"- A native american legend


	10. The desire of men

chapter 10

_"And I feel my heart is turning, falling into place. I can't hide now hear my confession."- My confession, Josh Groban _

The clear blue sky turned bleak, as grey, thick clouds endeavoured to cover it. Guy of Gisborne broke the silence that had descended upon the pair, after the tale that Eloise had shared. "My lady, I believe it is time to return to Knighton. It shall rain soon." She looked up with a skeptical look on her face and stated "Don't worry yourself, my lord, it is just a few clouds" As if to contradict her statement, soon rain descended upon them. Eloise gave a bell-like laugh of suprise and the two riders ran over to their horses.

Before mounting, Eloise made sure that her saddle was still properly attached and securely fastened. As she was about to mount Lark, she felt Guy putting the blanket they had been sitting on, around her shoulders, in an attempt to warm her. When his hands lingered on her shoulders longer than necessary, she turned around and immediately her breath hitched at the look, Guy was fixing her with. He was looking down at her, not with his usual steely, unforgiving gaze, but with a tenderness that she had never seen him bestow to another, which she had never seen stirring in his grey orbs. His breathing had seemed to quicken, as his chest rose with each inhale higher than normal. But there was not only gentleness in his eyes, but also a heated component. Eloise understood that he was looking at her with desire and longing. His gaze was yearning, something that she had never seen before. She had seen leering lust, displayed on the faces of the suitors her father had found acceptable. This was related, but oh so different, because it did not seem squalid, but held a desperation and an agony, that caused Eloise's heart to start pounding in her chest and her breath to quicken. She was transfixed by his grey eyes, which upon further inspection revealed light undertones of airy blue that made its owner seem so much more human to her. A droplet of water was making its way down his face and with her blue orbs she reverently folowed its path, dropping down across his right cheek past his thin lips, which were no longer set in his usual tight frown, but were slightly parted as he seemed to struggle for breath. Guy's right hand left her shoulders to now rest upon her cheek, and instinctively Eloise leaned into his touch as he started to lightly stroke her cheekbone with his thumb. Unconsciously, compelled by an invisible force Eloise leaned forward to bring her face closer to Guy's. She could now sense his scent- a masculine, natural smell that caused her to become light-headed. He smelled like the green foliage of the wood and like the rain. She found it utterly appealing. Their bodies were so close together now that she could feel the warmth he radiated, even beneath his leathery armour. Eloise was dizzy and out of breath. She felt warm all over. She was disconcerted- never having experienced something like this before, and she dreaded the moment this feeling would pass.

Thunder shook the pair out of their hypnotized staring. Eloise averted her gaze in shame of having lost her composure in this manner. As Guy strode over to his horse, she felt a pang of loss course through her body. She missed his warmth and his touch, and found herself deeply disturbed by her rumifications. She mounted Lark and followed Gisborne on his black stead. She was sure that Sir Guy could find his way out of Sherwood Forest even in this torrential rain. He knew Sherwood Forest, inside and out, and could probably find his way out even if he had no idea where he was currently located. She trusted him to lead her way.

* * *

They arrived at Knighton utterly drenched. Eloise dismounted Lark and raised her voice in fear that Gisborne would not overhear her in the storm: "Sir Guy, please come inside until the rain has passed. I shall have a servant see to your needs, you can dry yourself off." She beseeched. Gisborne regarded her for a moment, before stating: "I can't. Forgive me." For some reason Eloise believed, that this statement, this declaration had not entirely pertained to her offer of lodging. Sir Guy rode off and Eloise remained rooted on the spot. She stared after him, in the direction he had left. She stared until long after he had become an unrecognizable form in the distance, long after he had completely vanished from her view. She still kept looking after him, unmoving. She felt distress at his obvious dismissal of her and only moved from her spot, only peeled her eyes off the distance, which she had kept trained in Gisborne's direction in hopes of his return, when one of the servants flusteredly rushed her inside the Manor.

* * *

It took all of his willpower to not turn Judas around and ride back to Knighton. His self-control was utterly tested, as he rode away from Eloise. He had restrained from looking back, as he knew that were he to gaze upon her once more, he would not be able to control himself. He wanted her, needed her with such a fervency that overwhelmed him. She had told him the story of the wolf. Now, Gisborne was not daft. He had remembered the scars he had seen on her arm and connected the tale with reality, especially when she had revealed that the protagonist of the story was a female child. She had told the story with so much longing, so much pain. He had hated Eloise's father for causing her such distress. He had not been able to control himself in face of the vulnerability she had displayed to him. She had seemed so human, so real that Guy's heart had constricted so tightly it pained him. Guy had felt drawn toward her and the crashing realization had dawned on him. He cared for her, more than he should. Guy had never been concerned by another's wellbeing, selfishly concentrating on his own contentment. So to find that he cared for Eloise had been distressing. Everything in Guy's mind had been screaming at him to distance himself from the girl, who had stirred something within him, who had become a part of him that he cherished and cursed at the same time. She had loved the wolf, who according to her was a debased creature and through her the vicious animal had found redemption and love. She had not given up on the wolf, even in face of the animal's depravity. Could her affections absolve him from his sins? At the thought of redemption, Guy immediately felt unburdened. Perhaps he desired absolution from his sins, more than he had previously realised. He wanted her, he needed her. And at that moment, when he had been so close to her that her flowery, sweet scent had clouded his senses and judgement and he could feel the warmth and softness of her body eventhrough the textile that had separated them, Guy could swear that he had desired her more only in that second than he had ever craved for power or money all of his life. But he didn't, he couldn't. He couldn't want her more than his treasures. He had lost so much, sacrificed all in pursuit of his acquired power. He would never accept that there was something else in this world he coveted more. He would stay away from Eloise. Would maintain his distance. Guy was assured that this phase would pass. After all, she was just a woman, something fleeting, inconsistant. He had lived without her all his life. The only constant thing in his life was his covet for gold and he would never reliquish his power for anything or anyone.

* * *

She had been resting in front of the fireplace in the main hall, lost in her thoughts. Sir Edward was perched on the chaise beside her, eagerly telling her about his day. She would normally enjoy their nightly talk, he had evolved and become a fatherly figure to her, but tonight she was so lost in her thoughts that she paid him no mind. She still replayed her time with Sir Guy. No matter, how hard she tried, she could not banish the image of him in the rain standing so closely to her, from her mind's eye. Something had shifted in her perception of Sir Guy, though she could not identify what. She still thought him to be a depraved man, still despised all he stood for, but when her thoughts turned to the dark and brooding man, she felt a softening within her chest and a yearning. Her thoughts and feelings confused her, she was normally so in control of herself. Had established barriers to emotions, that she would not access in fear of reliving the pain of her formative years. In fear of recovering her dependancy on one person's feelings toward her. Today all her carefully constructed walls had come crashing down. The old greed that ruled her actions during infanthood packed her again. She could not pinpoint what it was and who it was for. But she did not want it, wanted to quench this desire within her.

"Are you alright, my child? You have been awfully silent tonight and you look as if something is weighing heavily on your mind." Eloise's introspection was interrupted by her uncle's concerned, deep voice. She smiled a placating smile and reassured him of her wellbeing. Sir Edward did not seem convinced, but decided to drop the matter, as his niece clearly did not wish to talk about the reason for her distress. "How was your ride with Sir Guy, my dear child? Did you have a pleasant time?" At the mention of the glum man, Sir Edward observed a brief, crestfallen look passing through his niece's blue orbs. Sir Edward had come to love Eloise, as if she was his own flesh and blood and he was certain that she loved him as well. Seeing her in pain did not bode well with Sir Edward and in an attempt to comfort her, Sir Edward gathered her into his embrace. After a few moments of hesitation, Eloise reciprocated the grasp and let out a shaky breath. Sir Edward drew back after a few moments and studied Eloise's face. She gave him a small, watery smile and asked to be excused for the evening. Sir Edward complied, after receiving his niece's reassurance that she would accompany him to the council of nobles the next day. After she had left, Sir Edward was left alone to ponder what had transpired between Eloise and the Lord of Locksley.

* * *

She had gotten a good night's sleep. After having retired for the evening, she had laid down upon her bed and immediately fallen asleep. She was exhausted, her fatigue at not having received proper sleep last night and the weariness generated by the events of the day, causing her to fall into a deep slumber, which she did not rise from before Isabella came to fetch her to get ready for the council of nobles.

She now stood behind the chair of Sir Edward and kept her disheartened gaze trained on the ground, as the men discussed finances and politics at Nottingham. She had dreaded coming to the council of nobles, but due to her sense of obligation to Sir Edward, generated by his constant kindness, she had acquiesced to his wishes. She did not wish to see Sir Guy after yesterday's event. She did not know, how she would react to him, how he would act toward her. Her worries had been unnecessary, however, since the Lord of Locksley had disregarded her presence and ignored her. On one hand this pleased Eloise, since she would not have to think about how she would act toward him, when he so clearly wished to avoid her. But this same wish on his behalf, pained her for reasons Eloise did not want to analyze. The pain had only increased as she continued to look upon the man at Vasey's side, to see him studiously avoiding her gaze. She had been looking at him with what she could only describe as bidding on her face, which reminded her of the way his subjects had looked at Guy during their ride. Eloise grew indignant at her mental comparison, and for the rest of the council she had kept her gaze fixed on the ground and had absent-mindedly listened to the nobles' conversation.

Before dismissing the council Vasey announced: "We shall have a feast tonight at Nottingham castle. We would appreciate the presence of each and every one of you." This caused Eloise's gaze to snap to Vasey in accusation. Her uncle would most assuredly attend and as a result of that she would be forced to come to Nottingham castle once more this day to endure Guy's ostracism.

That evening as she was getting ready for the feast, Eloise was going through her things and found a small, silky pouch among the few possesions she had brought along from Chester. She clearly remembered her mother presenting her with it on her 9th Birthday. The last one she would celebrate with her beloved mother. Her mother had told her that when she was to burn the contents of the silky pouch, she would feel it. Female intuition would clue her into it. Eloise felt compelled to burn the silky pouch. She gathered a clay pot and emptied the content of the pouch into it. She put the pan upon a small flame and knelt to better smell the steam coming from the burning concoction. Her mother had told her that if the smoke to rise from the herbs was sweet, then her love would be true to no one but herself. If the smoke was bitter, he was not her love. Greatest was her delight, that the smoke rising from the pan was sweet like incenses with a note of heather flowers. Ecstasy coursed through Eloise's veins. She pushed the white shift she was wearing, from her shoulders, so that it fell and bunched at her hips, exposing her upper body. Arching her bare back, she threw her head back and closed her eyes as the euphoria threatened to overwhelm her. She scooped up the thick smoke in wonder and proceeded to lather herself in it, passing her hands over her torso, her neck, her breasts. Rubbing her face with her hands. With new found joy, she allowed Isabella to dress her for the feast. She was wearing a dark auburn brown dress, which had dark wine red linings in the shape of roses. It was bunched up at her waist with a thick, golden metal belt. Her hair had been let lose, with her slightly curly red looks, cascading down her back. It was pulled back to expose her beautiful face by two strands, which were pulled back and combined in the back, fastened by a hair clip. Isabella was delighted at Eloise's appearance and she had said that her mistress was even more beautiful than normal. Filled with anticipation, Eloise entered the carriage that would transport her and her uncle to Nottingham castle.

* * *

Guy was on his second goblet of ale. He was seated to Vasey's right and silently watched the merrymaking of the nobles. They either dined, or drank and, in a few cases, danced. The hall was only illuminated by the light of candles and Guy was almost completely submerged in the shadow with only the candle of the table illuminating his unamused features. Despite his concealed position many of the ladies at court had discreetly prompted Guy to invite them to dance or had tried to engage him in conversation. Needless to say, they had been unsucessful with Guy either being unresponsive and short in his answers or him simply disregarding them. Guy was annoyed that Vasey had forced him to attend tonight's celebratory feast. He found the whole event to be unnecessary, an excuse for the nobles to splurge upon food and wine in the presence of their kin, instead of at a dingy tavern. Guy sneered in distaste at the boisterous manner some of the men already displayed. The evening had barely started and already some lords were intoxicated, and displayed leacherous lust toward the serving wrenches, unregarding of their stiff-nosed, uptight wives beside them. But his distaste at the crude behaviour of those who prided themselves on their supposed tact, was not the main culprit for his discontentment. As usual for the past few weeks, his discomfort sprung at the thought of his response to Sir Edward's niece. It had been difficult to keep his gaze averted from her during the council of nobles this morning. Especially, as he felt her beseeching gaze upon him. The way she had regarded him, the way she had begged at him with her eyes, had tempted him to discard his resolve. With all the strength he had, he held onto the decision he had formed yesterday, pertaining the girl. It had been difficult sticking to his decision, keeping his resolve solid.

But as she entered the main hall of Nottingham castle that night, he knew it was going to be an impossible task. She looked lovely, much more comely than any of the ladies present. She had a beatific smile on her face and that gleam of excitement, which had been missing this morning, had once more made its nest in her blue orbs. The light of the candles illuminated her pale skin and her red hair, which cascaded down her back. She and her uncle, who had a gleam of pride in his eyes no doubt directed at his niece, approached the table to pay their respect to Vasey. He was certain that she could feel his scorching gaze upon her. No doubt felt the heat of his desire for her. But she kept her eyes trained on Vasey, completely disregarding him. When Sir Edward addressed him, she kept her features neutrally cordial and polite. Not taken aback by the prominent yearning he no doubt displayed in his eyes. She politely curtseyed at him and the Sheriff and she and her uncle went to join the other lords and ladies at a table closer to the entrance of the hall.

Guy could not take his eyes off her. He would see her interact with the other nobles. He would also take notice of the leering lust displayed when the men glanced at her, no doubt sharing Guy's opinion about her appearance. Not one had asked her to dance, which Guy was glad about. Some had looked as if they were just about to ask for a dance, but as if sensing Guy's dark, forewarning stare, kept their distance. But this reluctance was not to last the entire evening. The son of Lord Braxton had been staring at Eloise with wonder for the entire evening. Eventually, the young man had seemed to gather his courage and asked her to share a dance with him. She had looked up at him and his extended arm with a dazzling smile, that pained Guy, and fervently accepted the boy's advances. As he saw her care-free joy at being spun around by the son of Lord Braxton, it had taken everything within him to restrain himself. He was tempted to stand up, march toward the dancing couple and cause a scene, letting the boy know exactly who Eloise belonged to. He had drunk goblet after goblet of ale to dull the ache that her continual interaction with the boy caused. They were engaged in conversation when, Eloise looked in Sir Guy's direction. Her facial expression revealed none of her thoughts, not what she thought of his blatant jealousy, his possesiveness over her. He sneered over the top of his goblet, to show his distaste at her behaviour. At that she had gotten a challenging look on her face, before once more turning her attention the heir of Lord Braxton.

Guy would have her. She was his. From the first second he had laid eyes upon the girl, he had desired her, coveted her, needed her. She would be his... his woman, his wife. If he had been a better man, he would have kept his distance from her. No doubt he would corrupt her, destroy her and her kind spirit with his sinful demeanour. But Guy could not stay away from her. He was so tired of having to resist her. He wanted her, needed her. By being with her, he would find salvation. He would find remittal from his sins. He would find redemption. He would make her his, even if it destroyed him.


	11. Of Dreaming Nightmares

Chapter 10

_"After my dreaming, I woke with this fear. What am I leaving when I'm done here?"- Leave Out all the Rest, Linkin Park _

Guy awoke to a cacophony of agitated voices coming from downstairs. It was early in the morning and routinely the manor of Gisborne was idyllic, even after his father had returned from the Holy Lands. His father, who he had not seen for 5 years. His father, who had been serving the crown and God, who Guy had been proud of, for he was a celestial Knight, a brave crusader, a defender of the deific birthright of the Christians. He had remained allegiant to his father, in face of the distance which separated them, he had unwaveringly tried to maintain the memory of his father, his father's image as a man of glory and integrity. He had not forgotten his father. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about every member of the Gisborne household. He had followed his mother when she had left in the late hours of the crepuscule, a habit of hers, which had become more frequent lately. He worried for his mother, for the woman who had brought him up and shown him and his sister unwavering love. He'd had a pious image of his mother, had pigeon-holed her in the same category as God's angelic messangers. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. It had come as a shock to him to find her with the Lord of Locksley. Robin's father. At the thought of the snot-nosed, arrogant boy, Guy had to sneer. He had almost hanged for that child's stupidity, for his ridiculous need to prove himself superior to Guy in every manner. Guy had only barely escaped a fatal encounter with the noose, when a figure clad in white had ridden up, his bright attire contrasting with the dark tinge of the night. It had been his father that had come to his rescue, while the bailiff and the villagers had spurned for his death. His father, who had reclaimed his right over Gisborne, who had saved him from an unsavoury fate. His father, the knight, who Guy had lauded for the past five years, who Guy had been faithful to, even when confronted with the news that his father had been lost in the Holy Lands. Even then his faith in his father had been unwavering, he would never have given up on the man. And his fidelity would be rewarded, for his father had come home just in time to repay him for his allegiance. But his mother, she had abandoned the memory of his father, had become involved with Lord of Locksley, had betrayed their father. His gentle mother, who could do no evil had proven to be the most vile of creatures.

Isabella entered his chambers, his little sister had also been awakened by the disquiet downstairs. Together both heirs of Gisborne went downstairs to find out the source of the discord. An unusual scene created both siblings as they went down the stairs. The village priest, the bailiff and the current Lord over Locksley had just entered Gisborne Manor and were in the process of confronting his father, while his mother sobbed.

A leper. His father was a leper. No, it couldn't be, not his father. The healthiest of men. A crusader, a knight of the holy order. No, his father could not be infected with this heinous disease, which would leave him disfigured with an abominable visage. Not his father, who in his eyes was invincible, the strongest of man, the most courageous. His idol, who he had aspired to become. No, there had to be some mistake. Why, then had his father nor his mother said anything when the priest put forth this horrible accusation against his father? Why, when this information was so clearly erroneous, why then had his parents still not spoken out, denied with vehemence the cruel rumours put forth against his father? Why did they move through the village, his father eyed with unjustified disgust, toward the graveyard? Why did they still move toward the open grave in the ground, when they clearly had no purpose being there, when his father was surely innocent of the charges against him?

The procision meant to share his father's disgrace came to a stop before the grave. All conversation around Guy became blank noise. He supposed his mother, his treacherous mother, who was to be held responsible for his father's humilation, had said something, but Guy did not hear anything, did not perceive anything but the figure of his father as he stood before the abyss of shame. His father entered the grave, sealing his fate. Why did his father do this, when he so clearly was pure of any disease, his virile father? Guy thought this to be a cruel joke of fate. No, he would wake up and find that this situation had been only a cruel tale his mind had crafted. But, the nightmare did not end. Not, when the priest declared his father to be a leper, not when his father had been banished, been deprived of any human contact, declared unclean. Guy had tried to beseech his mother to stop the humilation of his father, the man who had cared for all of them, even if this was just a cruel dream that he was bound to wake up of. But, he didn't. Not even when his mother entirely abandoned his father, declaring herself a widow and finally displaying her duplicitious nature for all the world to see. When to his great horror, his father struggled like a helpless infant to exit the four foot hole in the ground, not even then did Guy wake, though surely his dream had reached its climax. It could not become worse than that. Slowly, it dawned on Guy that this was bitter reality and that he would not wake to find his strong, imminent father seated in the hall in front of the fireplace, quiet strength exuding from him. No, his father had been cast out into the woods to never been seen again by another human being. Never to be seen again by Guy. No, he would not let him go. This was his father, he had only just got him back. Guy ran after his father, but was stopped by the Lord of Locksley. He had orchestrated this, had selflishly seized the wife of his father, had disvirtued his mother. It was his fault, how dare he stop a son from seeing his father? This whole situation was his fault and Guy did not have the qualms to tell the self-righteous Lord of Locksley that before he stormed off, seeing the figure of his idol disappearing behind the dense forest growth.

* * *

Guy awoke sweat-drenched in his bed and sat bolt upright. This had not been a nightmare, but a memory. Something that had happened so long ago, but which's distance from Guy's mind did not increase at all, throughout the years. He always carried this memory, the memory of the day his life had begun its steady descent to misery, with him like a cursed pendant, a plague he could not rid himself of. And the guilt, the guilt of having caused him and his sister to become orphans. That guilt was another thing, which he carried within him, which had become a part of Guy like an organ within him. He could not imagine life without it. Without the constant haunting, which this memory caused. Guy rose to prepare himself for the day. As he cleansed himself, Guy thought about the fire. He had tried to extinguish the memory from his conscious, had tried to repress the thought that he had caused the death of his parents, as well as the death of Hood's father. It is said that one never forgets their first murder, Guy was the living proof of that statement's accuracy. He had lived in guilt, in pain since his 15th year on this earth. He had not only caused the death of his parents, whom he had loved despite his father's disease and his mother's betrayal, but he had also caused the destruction of Gisborne manor. This left him and Isabella, his little sister, distitute. After that fateful day, they no longer had any place in this world. Nothing to call their own. They were bound to wander this cruel world without any means, cruelly cast about by the people, who they had grown up amongst, who the Gisborne family had supported when in their prime. They had been cast out without a second thought, without mercy, without any consideration of their helplessness as children, for people only value you, only show you loyalty, when it benefits them, because people are opportunistic, people always want something.

No, not all people want something._ She _doesn't, Guy thought. No, her only intent in life seems to be showing kindness to others. Alleviating their distress, removing their agony, their pain. No, she doesn't have a hidden agenda like all others he met, she was simply content with her current state. But Guy could not help, but wish that she did want something. He wanted her to want him.

* * *

He wiped the man's blood from his brows, as he closed the metal door leading to the dungeons behind him with an ominous thud. The man had been consorting with outlaws. Had been suspected of having information about Hood's location. The possibility of finding the man, who even in their infanthood had antagonized Guy, had spurned Gisborne on, to extract this information by any means possible. He had beaten the man to a bloody pulp, had exposed him to any form of torture known to man. Guy was surprised that the individual had managed to keep his sanity. He supposed that he should have felt pity for the man's suffering, but he was known for consorting with Hood. Any sympathizer of the outlaw deserved no mercy whatsoever in Guy's opinion. He would capture Hood by any means possible. It was not only his duty, as the Sheriff's right hand man, who had been specifically tasked with the capture of this outlaw, but Hood and him had also bad blood between them. Hood had been an arrogant, mean-spirited child, who had always mocked him for no apparent reason. He did not know why all of the people surrounding him, had thought the son of the Lord of Locksley to be a charming child. Guy had always found Robin to be selfish, arrogant and cowardly. Guy had almost hanged for his impudence and his arrogance. The boy had wanted to prove his superior skill in archery to Guy. He had proudly declared that he could shot the lamp, while the man raised the fire wheel, which would have functioned as an entertaining spectacle that evening. Guy had tried to stop Hood, had tried to stop the boy's stupidity, but Hood had snatched his arrow and shot at his target. It would have hit, had the fire wheel not exactly reached that point in height at the very moment, Robin's arrow approached. The fire arrow had done its purpose to light the fire wheel and a display of fireworks had started, which would have been enthralling, had they not meant danger to every individual in proximity. Only too soon a massive hysteria had broken out, which ended with the village priest being hurt by the heavy wooden wheel. They had suspected Guy, because it had been his arrow that Robin had shot. But instead of facing resposibility for his crimes, the little boy had let an innocent take the blame.

Nothing had changed, Gisborne supposed, Hood would still let others suffer for his doings. He would bathe in glory at his achievings, but at the face of any trouble, Hood retreated like a coward. That is why Guy was of the certainty that the Shadow could not be Robin Hood, as many seemed to believe. Not Robin Hood, who would not do anything, if it did not hold glory and recognition for him. The understated and concealed actings of the Shadow simply did not fit into Hood's repertoire. People not recognizing him for his heroics, would be a blow to his ego. Hood probably delighted himself that people were willing to perish for him. Guy truly did not understand people's continual loyalty to Hood. The man had hissed at Gisborne that he would rot in hell. Gisborne knew that to be true. He knew he would pay for his sins, though Eloise now held the promise of absolvation, but he knew Hood would be there with him and the idea of Robin Hood suffering the fiery flames of purgatory was enough retribution for him.

* * *

She had gone to collect the herbs her mistress had wanted. Sir Edward had come down with the flue and instead of calling a physician, Eloise had insisted that she could heal her uncle and they would not need to trouble the medicine man. As Eloise tended to Sir Edward, she had asked Isabella to fetch plants that she had seen in Sherwood Forest and, which Eloise would need to prepare the balm to Sir Edward's cold. Isabella admired the willingness Eloise showed to care for her uncle, but found herself apprehensive of entering Sherwood Forest. The woods held many bandits and outlaws, which would show her no kindness in the chance of an encounter. Isabella had been perusing the woods for search of this plant for almost an hour now. Eloise had given her quite specific instruction, as to the location of the plant, but Isabella, who was not as familiar with the woods as her mistress, had become lost.

After some more searching about, Isabella stumbled upon the heart shaped leaves her mistress had described. Assuming this to be the plant, Isabella quickly gathered a few green petals and was about to make her way out of the forest, when she heard a male voice state: "This is a robbery. Remove any valuables you have on your person and hand them over to me and my men. You may console yourself with the thought that your goods shall go to a worthy cause." Had Isabella not been petrified with fear, she would have surmised that this was Robin Hood and she would have been excited to meet him. She stated with a shaky voice: "I do not carry anything of value with me, sir. I am a simple servant at Knighton and as such have nothing valuable to my name." "Knighton? What is your name, girl?" The outlaw stated. "Isabella", she stuttered in response. "Isabella? As in Eloise's Isabella?" The outlaw stated, mirth colouring his tone. He ordered his man to lower the weapons and assured the shaking girl that no harm would befall her. After Isabella had managed to recompose herself, Hood asked: "What are you doing in these woods alone, girl. It is quite dangerous and your mistress is quite fond of you. She would hate for harm to befall you." "Lady Eloise sent me to gather a plant she would need to care for Sir Edward. I am afraid my lord has taken ill." "Why not call a physician?" The outlaw asked, confusion contorting his boyish features. "Lady Eloise said there was no need to disturb the man, as she could care for her uncle herself." Affection passed through the outlaw's eyes "That's her, alright. Resourceful to a fault. I would advice you not to make your visits to Sherwood a habit. There are other creatures in this forest that are not so amenable as we and it is quite easy to get lost in here. Rest assured, that when you are here you can count on mine and any of my man's assistance." "I do not know how to thank you, my lord." Isabella stated politely. At this the outlaw's eyes lighted up, as if he just thought of an idea: "Perhaps... You could be of use. You, as a servant must overhear your fair share of gossip. I would appreciate it, if you informed me whenever you came upon a piece of information that you thought I might care for." Isabella was disconcerted, she was not sure if she wanted to consort with outlaws- it was after all a punishable offense, but she had gathered that her mistress and the outlaw seemed to be close and whoever her mistress deemed trustworthy, she would as well. Furthermore, she did not know how to rebuff the man's bid, she was sure she didn't really have too much choice. She agreed to help him, albeit reluctantly before making her way back to Knighton.


	12. To Have Her To Myself

Chapter 11

_"I'd do anything to have her to myself. Just to have her to myself"- Vermillion pt. 2, Slipknot_

Eloise made her way through the halls of Nottingham Castle with an unprecedented determination. This week Sir Edward had fallen ill and at Eloise's insistence he stayed at Knighton Manor and forewent going to the council of nobles. Eloise would have rather remained at the Manor with him, tending to him, as he was still quite ill, but Sir Edward had been ademant that there should be a representative of Knighton at the council. Since Eloise was steadfast not to allow Sir Edward to exert and expose himself with the ride to Knighton, the task had fallen on Eloise's shoulders. Today, her lonesome self would be speaking at the council of nobles. Today, she was not be a mere companion. Today she would sit on Sir Edward's chaise and would discuss finances and politics with the other lords. Eloise thanked heaven, that she had learned how to manage an estate. She had always assumed that she would inherit Chester Manor after her father's demise, and in hopes of continuing the proud legacy her father and his ancestors had established, Eloise had been resolute in becoming educated in the art of being lady over a Manor. She was not content being a simpering maid, who was ingenuous and whose only goal in life was to attract a wealthy husband.

Some would have been worried, as to how they would be received by the other members of the council. She was after all, a woman and a very young one at that. The other lords would probably think her naive, ignorant and silly, as she would sit on her uncle's chair. They would not listen to her council, believing everything she said to be unimportant and gauche. But, Eloise was obstinate and headstrong. Sir Edward believed in her capabilities of representing him and his lands appropriately in the council. She would not be chased away by some men's opinion of her and her supposed uselessness. So that is how Eloise made her way to the hall, where the council was normally held, through the cold halls of Nottingham Castle.

The Halls did not reflect the warm, friendly weather outside and seemed to be imprisoned in a constant state of obscurity and chill. She supposed that the castle reflected the state of the soul of it's current owner. Oh, Sheriff Vasey would not be happy about Eloise's role in the council today. She assumed that it was already quite difficult for him to deal with her silent presence there. The man could barely stand her, but today his self-control would definitely be tested. He would regard Eloise's participation in the council today as an insult, a personal affront. Vasey would probably not heed her council, would probably disregard her and ignore her. Perhaps, Eloise should let him. He was after all the Sheriff of Nottingham and had certain influence over her uncle's lands and fortune. It would not bode for her to challenge him, when he already despised her. But, Eloise enjoyed challenges. She enjoyed the euphoria of adrenaline. If she had something to say, she would make sure that she was heard and not anyone, not even the Sheriff of Nottingham with his looming presence, would stop her. With that thought, she entered the council of nobles.

* * *

She had received queer looks, as she let herself down on Sir Edward's chaise. Some had looked outraged at the supposed nerve of the girl to occupy the chair reserved for the lord of the land of Knighton. Others, mainly the one's that had been friendlier with Eloise and had gotten to know her better through their connection with her uncle, simply looked at Eloise with a glance of bewilderment, questioning her seating choice. Sir Guy of Gisborne had looked at first suprised, but then amused, adopting his trademark smirk at the girl and her nonchalance at the attention she was garnering. Sheriff Vasey, as expected, had looked affronted and had been eyeing her with distaste and contempt, while the last of the nobles arrived to the hall. Eloise could feel that most gazes were trained on her, and that the hushed conversation passing through the halls had her as the most likely subject. She felt uncomfortable at the attention she was garnering, but held her ground, proudly keeping her head held high.

Finally, all the nobles had arrived and Sheriff Vasey was going to start today's council. "Before we get down to business, I do have to ask: Lady Eloise, where is Sir Edward? After all, it is him that should be occupying that chair. It's not really your place, is it now?" Sheriff Vasey stated derisively. "No, I do not suppose it is. But, Sir Edward has taken ill, my lord. It was not adviceable for him to come to this council, in his current state. Not for him, and not for you, my lord, as the risk of infection is prevalent. And you falling ill, my lord, would be a most calamitious affair for all." Eloise stated drily. Vasey obviously detected the sarcasm in her voice, as his eyes flashed with anger, but chose not to say anything. His discontent was clear to all, however. They started their discussion on the finances and politics of Nottingham and the surrounding area. Vasey had proposed to induce another tax, to finance the training of his guards. Eloise was appaled that they would want to further exploit the villagers, but she was not suprised that Vasey would suggest such a thing, considering his power hungry demeanour. What had surprised her was that all the nobles had seemed to agree, even the one's that she had assumed ruled their lands more like her uncle, due to their friendship with the Lord over Knighton. Eloise had wanted to protest, but she had already angered Vasey enough for a day. She could not risk another confrontation with the man for fear of the repercusion it would have for her uncle. So, Eloise held her tongue.

But soon the conversation turned to the Shadow. When Lord Braxton accused the Shadow of being a "menace to public safety and security", Eloise had been sorely tempted to tell the pudgy man that the situation of his people, who lived in serfdom, could not possibly be worsened, as they already lived under his tyrant regime. She was interrupted from insulting Lord Braxton by Vasey: "Yes, the Shadow is a menace. He is a threat to stability and thus we shall put a recompensation on his head. 50 pounds to whoever captures him and brings him to me." Fear packed Eloise. 50 pounds was a handsome recompensation. Too handsome to resist. She would not be surprised, nor would she accuse any of the villagers if they wished to seize this opportunity. It was after all, almost four times their annual wage. Eloise was so lost in her thoughts that she almost disregarded Vasey, who had for the first time this session, adressed her. "What do you think of this, Lady Eloise? Do you think 50 pounds is a fair recompense." Eloise did not know what to answer to that. She could not defend the Shadow, as it would most certainly draw attention and suspicion on her. No one would assume that it was her who was behind the mask, but consorting with an outlaw was a punishable offense and Eloise knew that, in her case, Vasey would seize any opportunity to punish her. With a tight smile, she stated: "It is most certainly a handsome recompensation, my lord. One that people will find fair and that will no doubt earn you the cooperation of the villagers, as they will not be able to resist this opportunity to be able to feed their families and sustain themselves properly. The first opportunity of this kind, during your reign, no doubt." Vasey did not say anything to that. It was not because he was appeased by her answer, but he most likely did not know how to respond, had been caught of guard, as he had expected her fervent support of the Shadow. Eloise, however did not pay attention the rest of the council. Her mind was plagued with worry at this further hindrance to her plans.

* * *

She was making her way to the courtyard of Nottingham. She was bound to return to Knighton, immediately. She would inform her uncle of the matters discussed at the council and would tend to him. But she had to ride to Sherwood to talk to Robin. After finding out about the identity of the Shadow, Robin had become quite cooperative with Eloise's nightly raids, as she had originally expected. She would inform Robin of the recompensation put on the Shadow's head, her newest worry. Robin would know what to do, he had always had to deal with this type of situation. But, he had the loyalty of the public on his side. They knew who he was and they respected and idolised him. The Shadow was unknown and a mysterious figure, who disappeared after each night, and had not earned the loyalty of any of the people. They would not be able to resist the recompensation, the gold on her head and were she to be captured, she would be hanged. But not before being thoroughly tortured by Vasey, who no doubt would enjoy her suffering with perversion and a sadistic glee.

"You made quite the impression back there." A deep, husky baritone pulled her out of her thoughts. She spun around to find Sir Guy of Gisborne leaning against a stone pillar, his attire making him blend in with the shade of the halls. His face was sporting an amused grin, while his eyes held the same intensity he always scrutinized her with. She had not seen him, since the celebratory feast almost a week ago. The night, he had looked at her with such a scorching gaze, which's memory alone caused goosebumps to rise on her skin. The way he had looked at her, and his displeasure at seeing her interact with the son of Lord Braxton, had led her to believe that he would have called on her the next morning, but she was thoroughly disappointed. Perhaps, she had only imagined their silent interactions, the way their gazes had said so much, revealed so much, but at the same time raised so many more questions. She had not been that intoxicated, but his behaviour after that night, had shown her that any reaction of his to her was probably only wishful thinking.

She fixed him with her most cordial smile and said: "I hope I did not make too bad an impression during the council. Sir Edward had such confidence on my ability to represent him. I would hate to disappoint him." Her addressing of him, prompted Sir Guy to approach her until he was standing in front of her. Perhaps, a little too closely. He said in a low voice: "I don't think you could do anything, which would cause your uncle disappointment. He cares for you too much for that. What ails Sir Edward?" As he inquired about her uncle's health, his voice returned to a normal volume. "It is a simple cold, nothing to be too concerned about. But, I thought it better for him not to expose himself to the weather, lest he become more ill." Guy seemed appeased with that answer. Suddenly, a grip of affection surged through Eloise and before she could stop herself, she laid her right hand on his leather-clad shoulders and with all the gratefulness she could muster, she looked up at him and said: "I thank you for reassuring me, Sir Guy." He did not respond, but simply stared, almost with wonder and with tenderness at the hand, which rested on his figure. He looked at her hand for longer than necessary, before shifting, almost languidly, his gaze to Eloise's face, and he looked at her with a questioning gaze, which held something else, which almost seemed to beseech her for something, anything. She gave him a last smile, before turning around and making her way to the courtyard. Painfully aware of Sir Guy's gaze on her back.

* * *

He had been suprised when Eloise had arrived at the Outlaw's camp. He was not suprised that she had found the dwelling, for he had shown her the way the last time they had spent time together. He remembered her gaze of wonder and affection, at his demonstration of trust in her. She had seemed delighted, that she was now considered an honorary outlaw and Robin had known it was a good idea, simply by the look of affection and tenderness she had fixed him with. But there were no traces of those emotions in her gaze now. Robin had been surprised at her presence in the outlaw camp, when he had returned from patrol with Much, for Sir Edward had taken ill the last couple of days, and Eloise had had no time to leave her uncle's side, her worry over the older man, who had become a father figure she dearly cherished, prompting her to care for him constantly. So Robin was surprised that Eloise was at the camp. His surprise only increased by the distress he saw in her gaze, the panic, and it caused Robin to assume that something had befallen Sir Edward. Worry packed him over his old friend, that had cared for Robin during his infanthood. Worry over the kind, older man, who had always supported Robin, had always assuaged his self-doubt, had adviced him. He quickly made his way to Eloise and was seized by her in a tight embrace. She was shaking with fear and Robin, seeing the distress of the girl he had come to care for in a way that he had not cared for others before, frantically asked her what had occured. Eloise, as if sensing his worry for her uncle, shakily informed him that Sir Edward was well, but informed him that the Sheriff had put forth a recompensation of 50 pounds for the capture of the Shadow. A new worry for his friend packed him. It was definitely a handsome recompense, one that was almost too good to resist. But, he knew that the Shadow had earned the people's loyalty by her kind and giving nature. He knew that they would not betray the Shadow, as they had not betrayed him. Eloise, however, did not seem so assured. She said that the people would not give up this chance and that she would not blame them if they did, for they all lived in such squalor.

Robin did not know what to say to pacify Eloise. He knew that there would be a few that would be on the lookout for the hooded silhouette, not having been able to resist the call of money. He assured her that he would take care of her and would not allow her to fall into Vasey's clutches. She stared up at Robin, as he promised that while she was doing her duty as the Shadow, he and his outlaws would be closeby to prevent her capture. At hearing his reasurements, Eloise once more embraced Robin and he felt a softening to her posture, as the tension that her fear had caused, left her body. She seemed mollified and Robin was able to convince her to spend the night at the camp. He sincerely wished that she would come live in Sherwood with him. Would be at his side, as one of his outlaws, one of his most trusted friends and confidants. But, as Eloise danced with Much, to the music being played by John, her fears temporarily forgotten, Robin wondered if companionship was all that he desired from Eloise.

They were the same. Robin had come to this conclusion, a long time ago. They both had the same goals and shared similar views. Both, had an unwavering loyalty to the Lionheart king. Robin cared for her, too much, the thought of losing her, when she had told him of the danger she faced, had distressed him, caused him panic. He did not know what he would do were he to never interact with her again. She had become a part of his life, as essential as him being Robin Hood had become. He could not imagine what he would do, if he was denied her presence, her company. At that thought, the realisation hit Robin, he was falling in love with Eloise. If he was not currently doing so, he was in grave danger to, was on a path that had this as its inevitable goal. He was falling in love with her. At this realisation he should have plotted to keep his distance from her. Should have tried to stop his descent, before he was in too deep. But as he looked at her face, filled with happiness and mirth, he knew that he would not be able to stay away from her. That night, when they all laid down to sleep, he lay down beside her as customary and put his arms around her. But it was no longer to only keep her warm, to provide her comfort. Not this embrace had become much more longing in its nature, much more intimate. He only hoped he was not alone in his feelings.


	13. Tatooed Bliss

chapter 12

_"Follow your bliss, it beats on my chest. I know I got it tattooed for a reason"- Can't be saved, Senses Fail _

Sir Edward was approaching Eloise's room. He'd just had a dream, pertaining her. No, not a dream. A nightmare. Now, Sir Edward was not superstitious. He, like his niece, prefered to adhere to sound facts and logical conclusions. But when he had awakened, he had been scared. The dream had seemed so realistic, so real, so closely adhering to reality. It had left Sir Edward with a bitter feeling in his stomach, had left him feeling haunted. Still, Eloise's screams ringed in his ears, as he had to helplessly watch her being tortured by Vasey. Had to endure her pain, feeling it, as if it were his own. He knew the only way to calm himself was to see his niece, lying safely in her bed. He resented waking her, but he knew he could count on her understanding. She would probably even appreciate his care. Sir Edward had quickly found that Eloise was greedy for affection, in any form she could find it. A longing, no doubt, generated by years of indifference on her father's behalf. Eloise had quite gladly accepted Sir Edward as a fatherly figure, which had delighted Sir Edward, more than he could state. He too was starved for affection, having spent his life alone, without a wife by his side, or children to carry on his legacy.

Sir Edward entered Eloise's room, to find not his niece lying on her bed, indulging in the sleep of the just, but rather to find a dark, hooded figure standing in the middle of the room. The figure was bathed in the faint light of the moon and seemed as shocked to see Sir Edward, as he felt upon gazing at the figure. After recovering from his initial reaction, a new panic packed him and he started to search frantically for his niece. He feared that the figure in the room had hurt Eloise. Greatest was his shock, when he could not find her, and he prepared himself to apprehend the bandit and call the alarm. The figure, obviously sensing Sir Edward's intent, came closer to him and as a result Sir Edward recoiled from the figure. The figure raised his hand in a placating gesture and removed his hood. Sir Edward could not believe his eyes, when fiery red hair cascaded down the figure's back. Tresses, he only knew to well. Eloise took of the mask to reveal her worried expression. Sir Edward simply stood there dumbfounded. "I can explain, uncle." Eloise said with a beseeching voice. Yes, he thought, his niece had a lot to explain and he somehow doubted that either of them would be getting anymore sleep tonight.

* * *

He did not know how to react to this confession. The last half hour, his niece had spent confessing her second persona. The infamous Shadow was Eloise. The silent benefactor of the night. The figure, which mitigated other's sorrows and went undetected. It was all Eloise's doing. Sir Edward had found the figure to be worthy of admiration. He had silently supported the figure's actions and had disagreed with those that showed suspicion toward the nightly crusader. He did not think that the Shadow was a menace, a threat to stability and security and had not agreed with the recompensation put on the Shadow's head. However, any pride he felt toward his niece's altruistic agenda was drowned by his worry over her. There was a 50 pound recompensation on her head, people were bound to look for her to try and claim the money. They would not consider the Shadow's kind actions, not when there was so much greed in the world and such a great drive to survive. 50 pounds would ensure a lifetime of comfort for any villager and their family. Suddenly, Sir Edward recalled his dream. Vasey using the most heinous ways to torture his niece. Wrenching heartbreaking screams from her, and Sir Edward unable to intervene. Utterly helpless. No doubt, Vasey would have no mercy on his niece were he to find that she was the Shadow. Vasey was already a pitiless man, who delighted himself in the suffering of others. Vasey despised Eloise, it was clear to Sir Edward, so when presented with the chance Vasey would most likely take a special delight in torturing his niece. Now, he understood why his niece had seemed so distressed when she had told him yesterday of the resolve of the council against the shadow. He had thought that her worry had sprung from an idolisation of the capped figure, had thought that she thought the Shadow to be admirable and undeserving of being hunted. But her distress had sprung from fear for her own life. For fear of the pain, she would experience at the hands of her captors. But, she still had gone out as the Shadow tonight. Had disregarded the danger, which faced her. Had selflessly neglected her impeding doom, where she to be discovered. No, he would do the impossible to prevent his dream from coming true.

"You are to cease this immediately, Eloise. No niece of mine shall wander through the night, no niece of mine will break the law." Sir Edward stated with the most severe seriousness he could muster. Eloise seemed shocked at his response. He did not know what she had expected his reaction to be, but this had not been it. What had she expected? Had she expected him to simply watch as she put her life in danger, daily? Had she expected him to be accepting of her possible demise? Had she expected that he would simply watch, as she was captured by Vasey and tortured mercilessly? "Uncle," she started "Uncle, do not ask this of me. This is what I live for. I can not watch the misery of the villagers, while I enjoy good fortunes. Please, let me give something back to them, please allow me to contribute." "No. I shall not allow it, so cease your beseeching, Eloise", Sir Edward stated with finality. Eloise was about to start arguing again, when Sir Edward sharply cut her off: "How can you ask me to allow you this, when this shall lead to your destruction. How can you ask me to simply stand by and watch you being captured by the Sheriff and tortured until you beg for death? How can you ask me to witness your descent into death? How can you do this, ask this of me, when I have just found you?" Eloise looked at him wide-eyed. Until now, Sir Edward had never raised his voice at her. When he admonished her, there had always been a light-heartedness in his tone, but as he lectured her on her behaviour now, any buyoancy was gone from his tone. He was truly angry at Eloise, and that frightened her into silence. "You shall cease this. I shall make sure of it." Sir Edward stated with the most unrelenting expression he had and left the room, leaving a desolated Eloise behind.

* * *

She stood in Locksley Manor, her spirits low and plagued by fatigue. She had not gotten any sleep last night, not even after returning from her rounds as the Shadow. She had been surprised when Sir Edward discovered her, and even a little apprehensive. But she had not worried too much, her uncle was bound to find out eventually and she had always counted with his appreciation of her work. He had already stated that he thought the Shadow to be kind and admirable. So, she had not been too worried. Greatest, was her surprise when Sir Edward started to forbid her being the Shadow. She had been confused at her uncle's aversion and had become truly frightened when he had raised his voice with her. They had been living together for some time now and she had come to view her uncle as a serene man, who was pacifistic and never lost his head. She had been struck speechless, when he had seemed so ademant to prevent her from being the Shadow. Then she had grown indignant. Sir Edward had asked her to become a lady, to become more proper, had demanded that she engage in past times, which absurdly bored her. And she had complied, had acquiesced to his wishes, but now he demanded the ultimate sacrifice and she would not abide. She loved her uncle dearly and the thought of disobeying him, causing him displeasure, saddened her, but she would not give up the thing that mattered most to her. She would not become a pacified lady, who simply sat without a purpose other than pleasing a man.

Today was the celebration of King Richard's birthday, but Eloise found that she was in no mood for this joyous occasion. She and her uncle had not exchanged a word, since last night's argument and both stood solemnly in Sir Guy's hall, as he toasted to the King's honor and expressed his well wishes. But Eloise paid no attention to those surrounding her, rather wallowing in her disappointment at Sir Edward. She was shaken out of her thoughts, as Guy came up to her to give her a goblet filled with wine. "And we pray for the king's speedy return to this shore." With that, Guy handed Eloise the goblet and gave her a smile his eyes lingering on her face a second longer than necessary. As he passed by them, Sir Edward gave her a questioning glance, no doubt wondering about Guy's behaviour toward her. Eloise did not respond to the look of her uncle and fixed her gaze on the wine goblet. Sir Guy raised his goblet and prompted everyone to toast in honour of King Richard. "To King Richard", she muttered along with all other guests. Guy was fixing her with a intense gaze, as he peered at her over his goblet. Eloise found herself unable to avert her eyes, as she was captured by Sir Guy's stare while he looked at her with something akin to intent and determination. After having taken a sip from the sweet wine, she gave him a smile hoping to appease him, so that he would stop looking at her with such an intensity that she in her state of exhaustion and exasperation could not deal with. Sir Edward was fixing Sir Guy with a glance that revealed his suspicion at his queer behaviour.

The customary opening speech at the start of a celebration was finished. The guests were meant to entertain themselves. Most engaged in conversation, but both Eloise and Sir Edward remained aloof, until the Lord over Knighton broke the frosty silence between the pair: "What was that?" He hissed, knowing he did not need to clarify what he was refering to. Eloise was prevented from expressing her equal puzzlement to Sir Edward, when Guy approached them. "I hope you are enjoying the festivities, my lord and lady." They both nodded their confirmation, despite their slight disconcertment. "Yes, thank you for your most generous invitation, Sir Guy." The Lord of Knighton stated congenially, while eyeing the dark clad man with dubiety. In response, Guy nodded in courtesy. "I have something for you." Guy said, as he addressed Eloise. She looked up at the Lord of Locksley, startled and with confusion clearly written on her features. Guy pulled out a chain from his pocket, to reveal a necklace, beautiful in its simplicity. The only ornate detail about the piece of jewelery was the pendant, which was the colour of bronze and was adorned with the silhouette of a wolf. "Will you accept it?" Guy was looking at her with a hopeful expression and she did not have the heart to deny him. Additionally, they had pulled the attention of all the guests at Locksley Manor, who were looking at the scene with curiousity. It would not do to humiliate Guy in his own home, by refusing him. Eloise was caught of guard by the present and the attention, which was upon them. Sir Edward along with all the other nobles assembled at Locksley Manor were looking at her with an expectant, wide-eyed gaze. With a thin voice, she stated: "You leave me no choice, my lord." At this response, Sir Guy's face fell and he stated questioningly: "I did not know that there was a choice involved with receiving a present." Eloise did not answer to this statement, but simply nodded her head, showing that she had resigned herself to accepting the gift. She turned her back to the leather-clad figure and allowed him to put the pendant on her. Eloise felt exposed, as Guy's fingers lingered on the naked, soft skin of her nape for longer than necessary. The actions held such intimacy, that Eloise was embarassed that there was an audience witnessing it. She turned back around and looked up at Guy with a polite expression, but he took no notice of this. His gaze was fixed on the pendant he had put on her. He looked at the pendant as if it was one of his conquests and let out an inaudible sigh. Eloise was puzzled and she stated: "This truly means that much to you." Guy answered, almost as if to himself: "It means the world to me." She continue to look up at him questioningly.

The pair was broken out of the reverie by an arrow, which pierced the wooden pillar beside Guy's head. "Have we missed the speeches?" Robin questioned with a cocky, amused tone. The door opened to reveal the tall, elder bearded man, who was the outlaw John. Soon Locksley Manor was infested with outlaws, their weapons all trained on Sir Guy. Eloise looked down to conceal her mirth at the ridiculousness of the situation. Robin Hood truly had either the most spectacular of the worst sense of timing in the world. Eloise had not yet decided which, but the fact that he amused her was blindingly clear to her. "Hood, I don't recall inviting you." Gisborne stated, with attempted security and confidence, but Eloise could see that he was intimidated by the situation they currently encountered themselves in. Robin stated cockily: "When did a man start to need an invitation to attend his own home." At Robin's claim of possesion over Locksley Manor, Guy's eyes got a glint of anger and hatred. "I don't know. Probably, when this man became an outlaw and lost any right to his home." Eloise was looking up at Robin with an expression that clearly expressed her dissatisfaction, but also her amusement at their interrupting. Encouraged by the mirth in Eloise's gaze, Robin chuckled sarcastically and stated: "I would have declined, anyways. You see me and my men are here on business." At this Robin started to command the guests to remove their valuables and hand them to his faithful servant Much and for them to relocate to the adjoining chamber until the robbery was over. Guy, seeing no way out of the situation, begrudingly conceded with Robin's command. The nobles were stripped of any items of value they held and, like cattle, were rushed to the room by John's booming and angry voice, demanding that they get a move on. Robin came down to the hall and situated himself in front of Eloise. He looked at her with amusement, but as his gaze travelled to the pendant around her neck, he seemed reminded of something and hurt flashed across his eyes. Without taking his eyes off her, he stated: "You may console yourself tonight, knowing that your donations will be used to feed the hungry of Nottinghamshire at the same time tomorrow." At this it became impossible to conceal her amusement and Eloise snorted quietly, drawing Guy's attention to her. Her fixing Robin with an admiring gaze filled with affection was not missed by Guy. "Robin, this is ugly." Sir Edward admonished the outlaw. Robin paid him no mind and adressed Eloise. "So, Eloise..." Robin was interrupted by Guy's angry voice "Back off, Hood. Eloise does not carry money on her person." He was silenced by John, as he threatened Guy with his thick, wooden weapon."He's right, I do not carry money on my person." Eloise stated self-assured. "My congratulations. It is wise of you not to, with so many unsavoury characters around." He glanced at Guy, as if to reiterate his point. "But this necklace." With that, Robin's fingertips came to rest upon the pendant. "You have taken everything else, you can leave that." Guy stated angrily, resenting the proximity of Robin and Eloise, as the outlaw had taken her hand, increasing their contact. Behind him, his band of outlaws were admonishing Robin to go, as Will Scarlett had sounded the signal. Robin took the necklace off her neck and gave her hand a lingering kiss, before taking off with his men. What happened next was a flurry of activity to Eloise, as Robin and Guy engaged in battle, while Sir Edward tried to keep his niece from the path of the fighting men. Suddenly, they ceased fighting as Robin looked at Gisborne with a look of shock and terror on his face, before his outlaws came and ushered the speechless Robin out of Locksley Manor.

Guy made his way outside, no doubt to persue Robin. Eloise was gripped with worry, she was not sure whether it was worry for Robin and what Gisborne would do to him after the humiliation he was forced to endure, or whether her worry was directed at Guy and what fate could befall him in Sherwood Forest. Before Sir Edward could stop her, she ran outside after Sir Guy, passing by Sheriff Vasey, who had just arrived in the Manor. Guy was mounting his horse, when Eloise came to a stop before him. "Guy, leave him.", she beseeched him. But Guy was on a rage-fuelled rampage and could not be stopped. "He only stole a few trinkets, some coins. Nothing of value." Before taking off, Guy glanced at Eloise and said through barred teeth: "He has your necklace." With that he rode off in the direction of Sherwood Forest. She kept gazing after Guy's figure, but her gaze was averted when two guards passed by her, Djaq, the Saracen woman, who was a part of Robin's group, in tow. Eloise felt the urge to help her, but knew that she would cause more harm than good. She was left, standing alone in front of Locksley Manor, feeling helpless.

* * *

He had gained the upper hand in the fight against Guy of Gisborne. Much was right, he had not been himself before. Before, he had been consumed by anger and blind white-hot rage. When he had discovered Gisborne's treason to the crown, he had lost his senses, he had wanted to kill Gisborne. Had forgotten all the principles he had set for himself. He had become a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. His blood-thirsty rage had only been increased by the image of Gisborne being so close to Eloise, having touched her with his unworthy, sin drenched, blood soaked hands. He was still not himself, he had the overwhelming urge to beat Gisborne to death. He punched Gisborne in the face with such strength that Gisborne had tripped over a branch and had gone sprawling to the ground. He caught his breath, as he observed the leather-clad traitor standing up. He listened, his wrath only growing, as Gisborne insulted his King. A man with principles, a man of integrity. Robin would not stand to hear Gisborne insult his leader, his idol. He told the panting leather clad knight of the reason he had gone to war. He had wanted to reclaim the English's Holy Land. Robin also told him that once he had arrived he had seen the senselessness of the war. Had seen that all religions had a claim to Jerusalem. Gisborne simply looked at him mockingly and derisively asked him: "What are you, Hood? Lord of the Dance?" With that Robin again punched Gisborne in the face and their short ceasefire had ended to give way to their continued battle.

Soon, Gisborne gained dominance in their struggle. Both men were exhausted having fought for a long time now. They were fighting to catch their breath, as Gisborne remarked with disdain: "Look at you. You used to be Lord over Locksley, Earl of Huntington. Look at you now, you are nothing but a simple outlaw. Don't you think I laugh, everytime I fall asleep in your bed at night. Don't you think I'll laugh everytime my future wife lies beside me to keep me warm." Gisborne had a cruel, victorious smirk on his sweat-drenched face. At his insinuation at Eloise, a surge of hatred passed through Robin giving him unprecedented power. He managed to knock Gisborne unconscious with a last punch. The last thing he saw before he collapsed on the ground with exhaustion was Eloise's angry, disapproving face, as she stood beside a shocked Much.

* * *

"So, am I to understand that you are a killer, now? Is that your new motto?", Eloise ranted angrily, as she tended to Robin's wounds. She had been venting her anger and worry for the past hour, now. Guy was unconscious and tied to the tree. Robin winced slightly, as she applied more pressure than necessary to the damage caused by Guy's fists. "Oh, grow up!" She exclaimed , she would have been more gentle, more patient. But at this moment, she had absolutely no patience with Robin. She had gotten quite a fright, when an agitated Much had arrived at Knighton and beseeched her to come with him. She had been shocked, when Much had stated that his master was not himself and was going to kill Guy. Eloise remembered the cold dread that had packed her at the idea of Robin killing Guy. The thought had spurned her on and was partially responsible for the indignation she harboured toward the outlaw. "He is a traitor, Eloise. Remember the assasin I told you about? The one that tried to kill King Richard in the Holy Lands. The one with the tatoo. It's Gisborne." Startled, Eloise forget temporarily about her anger and looked up at Robin. She questioned him, it could not be. She knew Gisborne was a depraved man, who had no qualms about killing, but surely he would not commit treason against the crown, against King Richard Lionheart. But, Robin kept insisting on Guy's culpability: "Ask the villagers of Locksley. There was a time that he was sick for months and no one saw him for that time." Eloise glanced at the tied up, unconscious man. Could he have commited the ultimate treason? Could he have betrayed England? "I do not know what to believe." She stated quietly, as betrayal and confusion stormed inside her like an unleashed tempest. "But there are things of more importance now, Robin.", she stated with determination, as she pushed aside her feelings and finished bandaging Robin up. "You have to focus on releasing Djaq. You could use Gisborne, as an exchange. The Sheriff will most assuredly agree to this. He values Gisborne more than he would care to admit." Indignation crossed Robin's face at the thought of releasing Gisborne. Eloise rolled her eyes, anger welling inside her: "You can finish your childish, petty fight, later. Now you have to get back Djaq. If you forsake her, so help me God, Hood." Eloise was fond of Djaq, she felt comraderie toward the Saracen woman, due to their mutual interest in healing and the fact that both were the only women that interacted with the outlaws so closely.

She stood up and made her way to Lark. Robin would do the right thing, she hoped. With nothing else to occupy her mind, her thoughts turned to Guy and his supposed betrayal. She had been fighting all her life for England and could not help but feel that Guy had personally attacked her by attempting to kill King Richard. She closed her eyes, once again cursing the state of emotional disarray that Gisborne always managed to create within her.


	14. Can't Hide Inside Me

chapter 14

_"You can´t hide, no. You can´t hide the way you feel. You´re just dead inside this meat that you´re smothering."- Meat, Tony Iommi_

They had been too long. They had taken too much time in the stables. It was now the dark of night and Isabella was scared out of her mind. This was not a time for her to be walking through the village of Knighton, alone. There was surely no other honourable soul nearby. She was completely forsaken. They had taken too long. Lucas had not let her go earlier, always finding another reason to extend their time together. And at that moment, she had not cared. She had enjoyed the affection Lucas had shown to her. She had enjoyed his undivided attention, both were too busy working during the day to acknowledge each other properly. So, it was natural that come evening Lucas was starved for affection, especially if they had crossed paths every second, unable to give into their mutual need to display their love. As a result, Lucas had kept her for longer than customary. Now, she resented him for that. Because she was walking alone toward the hazy shape of the Manor in the distance, and she feared what would happen to her if she were to cross paths with any creatures, whose intent was to inflict pain and agony. At that thought, Isabella quickened her pace in an attempt to escape this possible fate. She did not pay attention to where she was going, only intent to reach the safety of her chambers and forget this terrifying experience. Next time, she would not allow Lucas to keep her out for so long. Suddenly, she collided with a figure. The figure gave an 'oomph' of pain and surprise, clueing Isabella in that this creature, which was concealed from her in the darkness of night, was human. Isabella was about to scream in alarm, when a gloved hand covered her mouth, rendering the servant helpless. Tears started to well in her eyes, as she thought about what the man would do to her. "It's me, Isabella." said a female voice in a hushed whisper "It's me, Eloise. Don't be alarmed." As if to prove her claim, the figure pulled down the mask to reveal her mistress. Reluctantly, Eloise took her hand of Isabella's mouth, fearing that the servant would try to gather the attention of Knighton to them. But, she did not need to fear. Isabella had been struck utterly speechless.

"So you are the Shadow." Isabella stated, uncertainty still colouring her tone. Her and her mistress were currently in Isabella's chambers. Her mistress had spent the last half an hour confessing to her identity as the Shadow, while Isabella had simply sat there in wonder and amazement, enraptured by Eloise's narrative. So, it was Eloise who was the acclaimed figure of the night. The mysterious benefactor, who all the villagers had become loyal to in response to the figure's altruism. She knew that her mistress was kind and giving, but she had never imagined her capable of something as reckless as that. She was risking her life for the comfort of strangers, especially now that the Sheriff seemed intent to capture the nightly guard of the people. "Please, do not tell my uncle that you saw me tonight. Do not tell anyone. I beseech you, dear maid. Only your secrecy can prevent my undoing." Eloise put a beseeching hand upon Isabella's and looked at her pleadingly. Revealing her mistress's secret had never crossed her mind and to mollify the girl's agitation, Isabella gave her a placating smile and promised to keep her secret. She felt compelled to reveal that she had been informing the outlaw Robin Hood, had been bringing him any information that could have helped his cause. Eloise looked befuddled at Isabella's revelations. Then her mistress adopted an angry expression, causing Isabella to fear what repercussions her involvement with the outlaws would have. Suprisingly, Eloise's anger was not directed at her maid: "How dare he? How dare he ask you? Involve you? God help him, he is in so much trouble next time I meet him." Eloise ranted agitatedly. Seeing her maid's fearful expression, she softened and became less tigerish: "It is noble of you, my friend, to help us in our cause. But, I do have to warn you, because apparently you have been not made completely aware of the repercussions your actions could have. You are consorting with outlaws and this offence is punishable by death." Seeing that Isabella was still willing to help the outlaws, despite Eloise's warning, Eloise's gaze filled with affection and she hugged her maid with concern. She whispered: "Please, be careful. I could not bear to lose you."

* * *

She had been riding through Knighton with Sir Guy. The sun was shining upon them and it was a warm, and pleasant mid April morning. Eloise wondered at Sir Guy's attire. Surely, he must have been growing hot underneath those layers of leather. Eloise was already warm in her dress, which consisted of a relatively thin material, so she could only imagine how warm Sir Guy was. But, he seemed adamant to dress himself in that foreboding manner, no doubt to increase his menacing appearance. Not that he needed any help with that, his unforgiving gaze was already enough to instill fear in even the strongest of men. Eloise dispelled her thoughts by tipping back her head, so that the sun could shine on her face. They had not been talking, Guy's conversational skills had not improved, despite the time they spent together. But, his silence was no longer a source of discomfort for Eloise. No, quite opposite was the fact. She found solace in his strong, self-assured quietness. She felt composed in light of his quiet presence, his quiescent companionship. She had come to enjoy his taciturn demeanour, since the other men in her life were loud and boisterous, intent on filling any silent moment with noise and excitement. So their reticent rides together were a source of alleviation to Eloise. When they conversed their exchanges were meaningful and did not have the sole function of filling an uncomfortable silence. Thinking about that, Eloise glanced to her right at the dark, brooding man on her right. He too seemed... content, as content as he could be, Eloise supposed.

She had found out that Guy was a person who was constantly on edge, no doubt due to his occupation, but he no longer seemed weighed down by an oppresive force. No, he seemed calmer and more at ease. As if sensing her gaze, Guy turned around to meet her scrutinizing glance. She averted her eyes, red colouring her cheeks at the embarassment of him having caught her, studying him without qualms. She missed the self-satisfied and affectionate smirk that played on his lips, at his discovery of her having so intently perused him. He decided to break the silence between them: "Lady Eloise, tell me, what has occupied your time, since we last met." "I am trying to improve my skills at embroidery. I have been suffering greatly, so you can only imagine how grateful I am for you having called on me." This caused him to scoff in amusement, remembering the time he had witnessed her abysmal embroidery skills. "What about you, my lord? What has filled your time, during my absence?" Thoughts of you, Guy thought. That would be the most truthful answer, because now his every thought seemed haunted by the red-haired girl, who rode beside him.

Since the moment he had determined that he would persue her, would strive to make her his wife, he had viewed Eloise differently. Now thoughts about her were no longer accompanied by conflict and undetermination, but by tenderness and a deep abiding passion, and need to be in her accompany. When he had come to Knighton this morning to call on her he had remarked, with delight, that she was wearing his gift. When he had seen it at the Nottingham market, he knew that he had to get it for her. He felt gratified, that she appreciated his gift. She was looking at him with a questioning gaze. With a start, he realized that he had still not answered her question: "I have been plotting against Hood and his outlaws. We have planned an ambush for them that should occur later this day. We are sending a carriage, supposedly filled with money to London through Sherwood. Hood will not be able to resist and will ambush the carriage, but we shall be prepared and seize this chance to capture Hood." He had expected to see admiration in Eloise's gaze for his brilliantly-crafted plan. Instead, she kept her features purposefully blank, although he could swear he had seen a fleeting look of concern pass through her eyes. She gave him a small smile, nooded her ascent and steered their conversation in a different direction. Soon, Guy forgot anything that did not pertain to Eloise and their time together.

* * *

It had not worked, Guy thought irately. Hood had once more outwitted him, had seen through his plans. He passed an exhasperated hand over his face, Vasey would not let him live this down. No, he would admonish Guy extensively, and Guy dreaded the lecture of the Sheriff that was sure to come. He was already annoyed enough that his plans had failed, that he had missed the chance to exact his revenge upon Hood. He did not need Vasey's vexatious voice telling him, what a failure he was.

Two Guards entered Vasey's study. They had a young girl, dressed in servant's garb with blonde hair in tow. A spark of familiarity stirred within Guy, as he stared at the girl's fearful and tear-soaked face, but he dismissed the feeling. He demanded what the guards were doing with the girl. He could barely overhear the guards' explanation, that the girl had been found consorting with the outlaws at Sherwood Forest, over her anguished sobs. She had been with the outlaws at the time of the ambush, but had failed to make a timely escape, and the guards had seized her. Any sympathy, Guy had felt toward the young girl was extinguished, as he found out about her loyalty to Hood. "Take her to the dungeons." He ordered, before turning his back to the girl, only hearing her distressed sobbing, as she was taken away.

* * *

Eloise was brushing her long red hair, when Robin entered her room through the window. She had been worried that he might've gotten hurt during the ambush, but his sudden appearance was able to dispell any disquiet, Eloise posessed. The moment, Guy had told her of his plans, she had felt an obligation to warn the outlaws. Not only for Robin's sake, but also for the others, who Eloise had grown quite fond of, during her and Robin's increased time together. Some still seemed apprehensive toward her, particularly John and Will, but the others were amenable toward her and accepting of her presence. She rose and greeted Robin with a happy smile. He was here no doubt to boast about his outsmarting Guy and to mock the Sheriff's right hand man and his supposed stupidity. Eloise would never tell this to Robin, but she did not share his glee in making fun of Gisborne and did not think him as incompetent as Robin claimed. She had often stopped Robin when she felt, that he was taking his satirizing tirade too far. But tonight, she would indulge him, since she had been abnormally worried for him. A foreboding sensation within her had suggested that tonight something bad would happen. So to see her friend safe was a relief. Robin was not carrying his usual cheerful expression, but rather was presenting a sorrowful and apprehensive front. At his expression, her face fell and new worry gripped her. "What is it? What happened?" Seeing Robin's guilty hesitance, Eloise screamed: "Tell me!" Robin seemed startled, but in a sorrowful voice said: "It's Isabella, she was captured by the guards of Nottingham."


	15. Towers Over Me

Chapter 15

_"Keep me safe inside. Your arms like towers tower over me, yeah."- We are broken, Paramore_

Sir Edward had not been able to stop her. Through the emotional numbness that Robin's news had created, had sprung a fierce determination. She would ride to Nottingham tonight, to clear the charges put forth against Isabella. She would not let her beloved maid suffer a second longer than was absolutely necessary. The girl was still young and a night in the dungeons, sleeping beside the unsavoury characters, who had their residence in the cells of Sheriff Vasey, would most likely scar the young girl emotionally. Eloise was earnest to prevent any further pain for Isabella, her being captured by the guards and being questioned by the Sheriff, that callous man, was probably traumatic enough for the soft spoken girl. It was raining quite heavily and through her cloak, Eloise's tunic and breeches that she had put on in her haste, were getting drenched and were humidly sticking to her body. But, Eloise paid no mind to the conditions of the weather. She had one purpose and this filled her mind, so that she had paid no attention to Sir Edward's beseeching that she be reasonable and that they would solve the situation tomorrow. She had not saddled Lark, and had simply mounted her horse and spurned him on. Lark had seemed indignant of having to endure the cold rain, which was no doubt plaguing him. But Eloise had not paid any mind to her horse's objections. The only thing that filled her was her intent to rescue Isabella.

That and the guilt, that was storming within her, eating away at her, destroying her. It had been her fault that Isabella had gotten involved with the outlaws. The girl was impressionable and had no doubt felt compelled to follow the example set forth by her mistress. She should have forbidden Isabella from fraternizing with Robin, should have told her that it was not her place to consort with outlaws, should have told her that she would not accept a maid, who broke the law with so little disregard. But instead, Eloise had accepted her maid's involvement with the outlaws. Had complied with Isabella's intentions. Had even felt honoured that she had inspired her maid, her friend, her confidant to work for her cause. Had felt reputable that she held such sway over the girl. But now she felt nothing, now she felt numb. But worse of all she felt guilt, which penetrated through this wall of haze, that had packed Eloise, like the most vile of poisons. An oppresive weight of responsibility weighed down her soul, as she rode to Nottingham Castle. The force only threatening to choke her more, growing in its intensity as she neared the looming castle.

She would not allow Isabella to pay for her mistakes. She would free her and Isabella would as customary wake her up the next day, jesting about the disheveled appearence of her mistress, with concealed mirth and Eloise would jokingly admonish her. She would retire from the evening, the next day, and enter her room to see Isabella laying out her clothes for the next morning with motherly zeal and Isabella would greet her with her nurturing smile and Eloise would ask her to tell her about the stable boy, who Isabella had fallen in love with. Isabella would oblige and laught at Eloise's discomfort and her naivety. Everything would be alright, Eloise would make sure of that. She would not allow Isabella, who had become one of the closest friends she ever had, to die. She would not allow her maid to die! She would not live with this guilt, with the responsibility that she had persuaded her confidant to break the law and thus die. With this determination, she dismounted Lark and made her way inside the castle.

* * *

Vasey was sitting on his throne, conversing with Gisborne. He had been annoyed that the plot against the outlaws had failed, and his anger had not been assuaged by the girl they had captured. Vasey had severely admonished Gisborne, had told him that he was incompetent and stupid. But then Gisborne had informed him of the servant girl, they had captured, who had been seen consorting with the outlaws. At that Vasey's mood had brightened. The girl was young and weak and no doubt would reveal the location of the outlaws after some persuasion on his part. Vasey had been disappointed, even under torture this girl had not revealed any of her secrets. Had kept her secrets to herself, despite the blatant agony this girl was suffering through. This lead Vasey to two possible conclusions: Either this girl was exceptionally strong-willed and loyal to Hood or she did not know anything. Whatever the reason, it did not matter, the girl still did not reveal any information to Vasey and as a result was useless. She would hang in the morning and the matter would be dealt with.

He was about to dismiss Gisborne for the evening. It had been raining, quite severely outside and the lord over Locksley had decided to remain in the castle that night. Suddenly, the door opened and in came a rain-drenched figure in breeches and a tunic, that were soaked through and clung to the figure's body to reveal their gender. As she came closer, Vasey recognized that it was Sir Edward's niece that had disturbed his evening. He was disconcerted, what did this girl want with him? Furthermore, what was of such importance that she had to make her way to Nottingham in the middle of the night, with a torrential rain upon her? She again looked completely disheveled, similar to the way Vasey had first seen her, but there was one big difference. That time, the girl had been content, had seemed at peace, but now as she stood before him and Gisborne her face was contorted with agony, guilt and sadness. Her distress was so blatantly strong that Gisborne started and looked as if he was about to go to the girl to confirm her well being. But Gisborne did not move from his spot beside Vasey, chosing to simply glance upon Lady Eloise with obvious concern. "My lord", both him and Gisborne were shaken out of their contemplative reverie by a trembling voice. "My lord, I have received news that you have apprehended a girl today. She is my servant. I believe that there has been some misunderstanding and I would ask for you to release her." So the serving wrench was the maid of the leper. No doubt someone Eloise considered a friend, judging by her distressed state. Vasey's mood instintantly brightened. This was perfect, he would be able to cause the leper, which had annoyed him for all this time some well-deserved pain. With a placating, soft voice Vasey said: "Oh, dear. What a situation we have on our hands. I am afraid I can't help you my lady. Your servant was seen consorting with outlaws, and as you know that is a punishable offense and a betrayal against England. Treason is a knoxious weed. It should be torn out." At this the face of the girl contorted with heartbreak. Vasey was caught off guard, as the proud and self-assured niece of Sir Edward fell to her knees in front of him and begged him with the utmost humility, in a broken voice. "As it please your grace, I ask mercy for my maid Isabella. I do recognize her crimes. I know she must be punished. All I ask for is mercy." Vasey recovered his composure and stated: "I fear that there is nothing I can do for you, my lady. She commited a crime and for that she must receive due punishment." Eloise looked as if all the breath had been knocked out of her, and then she started to sob. Vasey was utterly disturbed, at this girl, who he had always regarded as strong, as she heartbreakingly sobbed, as if she had been just told that her mother was about to hang. Gisborne was about to go to the girl, no doubt to calm her, but Vasey put a placating hand, on the arm of his right hand man before could move from his station. Gisborne looked disapproving at his constraint. "Please..." she sobbed "Please, do what you must, but please don't take her life. She is only a child." Vasey felt uncomfortable, he did not know what to do in face of the crying girl. "Now, Now. Gisborne, take Lady Eloise to a chamber, where she may rest and regain her composure." With that he released his right hand man, who complied with his orders. The tall, leather clad man scooped the sobbing Eloise up in his arms and left his study. After their departure, Vasey's mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. He would enjoy tomorrow's execution a lot.

* * *

Eloise's sobs had ceased and the crying girl had buried her face into his chest, as he carried her toward his chambers. He would let her take his room for tonight and would ask a servant to ready another chamber for him. That is where he had known the girl from, she was Eloise's maid. He supposed he had chanced across her, when he had gone to Knighton to call on Eloise. But, he had never paid her any mind during his visits. He had been shocked and worried, when Eloise had entered Vasey's study, her face contorted with distress. He had feared that she had gotten hurt, but propriety had gripped him, when he saw that no harm had befallen her. She had begged so earnestly for her maid's mercy. Guy knew that had he been Sheriff he would have acquiesced to her every desire, to simply rid her of her distress. So that her bright smile, the one he had started to vehemently revere could once more make its seat on her face. But, Vasey was merciless and pitiless toward lawbreakers. Probably, even more so after having found out that Eloise cared for the servant. Vasey despised Eloise and probably saw this as a good way to exact some retribution for the annoyance she caused him.

She had seemed so broken, so vulnerable, so defeated that Guy's heart had constricted painfully in his chest. Seeing Eloise sobbing in despair, had caused him for the first time to resent the actions that would be taken against the girl. Had caused him for the first time, to wish to they could exact mercy on a lawbreaker and that had frightened him. This girl was a consort to Robin Hood and he was willing to show her mercy, simply because he could not bear to see Eloise's pain. It seemed that her sway over him, was even greater than he had assumed. He awkwardly opened the door and entered the chamber, normally assigned to him. He carefully lay down the weeping girl and as he saw her looking so broken, so pained, he cursed Vasey for his cruelty. He was about to depart to give Eloise some privacy, when he felt a hand grip his wrist pleadingly. He looked down at his wrist and then at Eloise, who had stopped him departing and was looking at him with a beseeching tear-drenched face. "Please", she begged him "Please don't leave. Stay. Hold me. I need you." At this and the desperation in her voice, Guy's face fell. His heart started to pound in his chest and his breath quickened and deepened, to satisfy his heart's demand. She needed him. And at that moment, that same desperation that Guy always felt in her presence came back with unprecedented force. The blissfull agony he had felt that day in the rain, a day he both cherished and rued for the rain had washed away any barrier between them and had cleansed Guy of his beliefs that he could resist her, could not compare with what he felt now. As he gazed upon Eloise's begging face, he was sure that his eyes revealed too much, that his eyes gave away how much he truly cared for her, how much he wanted and needed her. Even if his features hadn't been concealed by darkness, Guy could have not brought himself to care for the silent confession of his eyes. It did not matter at the moment. His self-preservation did not matter to him. All that mattered was this girl, who was lying on his bed, that he cared too much for and who held too much power over him. Guy lay down beside Eloise. Her back was to him and silent sobs shaked her body. Desperate for her, Guy buried his head on her shoulder and inhaled her sweet scent, enjoyed her warmth and the softness of her body against his. She apparently was as desperate as he, for she turned around so that they were now face to face and pulled him closer by putting her arms around his neck and embracing him. Guy stared transfixedly at her lips and studied all her features with such a frenzied reverence, as if he feared that she would cease to be in the next moment. She held his gaze for a few seconds, she had ceased crying and her eyes flickered to his lips. She then buried her head on his shoulder and cried warm silent tears on him. Guy consoled her with his quiet presence.

* * *

He awoke the next morning to Eloise's face, which was slightly swollen, no doubt a result of her crying last night. He simply lay there and watched as the morning sun lighted her features. But then he took notice of their state. They were lying very closely together, their limbs and bodies overlapping, completely intertwined, as if they had wanted to become, to merge into one last night. Though both were fully clothed, Guy could not help the spike of desire that ran through him at their proximity. He silently, and carefully extracted himself from Eloise's embrace, immediately feeling a sense of loss, as he was no longer warmed by the heat her body exuded, no longer felt her soft curves, and no longer held her body near that seemed to fit so perfectly against his own.

Guy was about to depart to get ready for the day in another chamber, when a soft voice stopped him, as he was about to open the door. That soft voice, bidding him Good Morning, caused him to turn around and once more face Eloise, who was looking at him half-awake. At her sleepy state, tenderness welled within Guy and he rued having to leave her. At his bid of Good Morning and his inquiry as to how she slept, she gave a soft smile. But her face dropped, no doubt she had remembered the situation her maid was currently in. She was fully alert now and with an agility, that Guy found astounding, considering her still half-asleep state, she moved toward him. "Sir Guy, please. Can you not help Isabella? The Sheriff will listen to you, you are his most trusted ally. Please, help my friend." She ranted and beseeched him. Sir Guy took her by her shoulders to calm her from her frantic rambling. Once, she was silent, Guy said in the most placating voice, he could muster: "I wish I could do something for her, but I can not. She broke the law, the Sheriff shall show her no mercy, no matter what I say." Eloise absorbed what he said and then she looked at him in a way he would never come to forget. A look that would haunt him in his most terrifying nightmares. She looked at him with betrayal contorting her fair features, and with disappointment. She adopted the same glance his subjects always gave him. A glance that read her contempt and disgust toward him. She determinedly shook of his hands, which's grip on her shoulder had tightened as a response to the way she now regarded him. She righted herself and stated coldly. "Lord Gisborne, I invoke the right of seeing my imprisoned subject, as mistress over Knighton." With that she walked past him, no doubt in the direction of the dungeons.

* * *

Isabella lay on the cold, humid stone floor of the dungeons. She had barely slept last night, the thought of her impeding fate weighing heavily on her mind. It was a small consolation, that she would die with pride, having sacrificed herself for a cause she believed in. A cause her mistress had been fighting for all her life. She had withstood the torture inflected on her by the Sheriff and Sir Guy and she had not revealed any secrets. The location of the outlaw's camp and the truth about the Shadow's identity, were details she would take to her grave. She faintly acknowledged footsteps approaching in her general direction. It was no doubt guards, that were going to take her to the gallows where she would meet her end. Isabella was scared, she had not yet made her peace with the fact that she would soon be standing in front of the eternal judge, who would be deciding her fate for all of eternity. Isabella simply hoped that she would not have to spend an eternity enduring the agonizing flames of purgatory.

"Isabella" a soft voice urged, and at the sound of that voice, which had become a comfort to her, Isabella raised her head to find the distresed face of Eloise behind the bars. She scrambled to stand up and move closer to the Lady of Knighton, who had become her most treasured friend. Eloise grasped Isabella's hand desperately, wanting to draw her into an embrace, but the heavy steel bars which separated the two women were an obstacle, they could not overcome. Eloise snapped her head back and stated fiercely: "Open the door, Lord Gisborne." Only now did Isabella take note of the presence of the dark, brooding man, who seemed discontent at the situation before him, if his severe look was anything to go by. Sensing his hesitance, Eloise stated exasperatedly and with venom: "Please, show me at least this kindness." Isabella was startled, not by the tigerish behaviour of her mistress, but at the cold, hateful glare she fixed the Sheriff's right hand man with. Eloise was the only one, Isabella had seen, who did not look at Sir Guy with contempt and distaste. No, her mistress had always looked upon the right hand man with kindness and a tenderness, which was so intimate that Isabella often averted her gaze, in shame of having seen it. But, now no trace of affection was seen in Eloise's eyes. Sir Guy complied to her wishes grudgingly, and as soon as he had opened the cell door, Eloise rushed into the cell and scooped Isabella into her embrace. Isabella sighed and felt the tension leave her body at the motherly nature of Eloise's embrace. She had always felt that out of the two, she had been the most grown up, the most mature and world aware, but right now, mere hours before her death, Isabella required of the consolation provided to her by this girl, who Isabella had loved, as if they were of the same flesh and blood, as if there was no hierarchy separating them. "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." Eloise whispered into her ears. Isabella started at that. What was there to forgive? Forgive her for becoming her friend? Forgive her for coming to comfort her in her last hour? Isabella looked up and put a tender hand on Eloise's cheek: "There is nothing to forgive." She said. Eloise's features contorted in pain: "Yes, there is. This is my fault. I did this. Your death shall forever weigh in my conscience." Isabella shushed her. "No, I made my choice. I chose to follow you. I knew the implications of that choice and it did not deter me. I would follow you anywhere." Silent tears started to run down Eloise's cheeks, as she once again scooped the girl into her embrace and buried her head into Isabella's blond hair. When Eloise had ceased crying, Isabella felt the urge to lie her head upon her mistress lap, as she had done with her mother, who had shared the same unfortunate fate as Eloise's mother, another thing that connected both girls. Eloise acquiesced to her wish and ran a comforting hand through Isabella's blond hair. "Do you think it will hurt?" Isabella whispered. "I don't know" Eloise answered truthfully "But it shall be over quickly. Only a quick pang of pain and then you shall be free. You shall go to a better place, and your mother will be there waiting for you, with open arms to scoop you up into her embrace and you shall know no hardships, you shall know no sorrow." Isabella felt mollified by this answer and simply chose to lie there and enjoy the quiet comfort her mistress provided, as she ran her hand through her hair. Soon, Sir Guy's harsh voice broke their self-contentment: "We have to go now, Eloise." Sensing her mistress hesitance, she quietly urged her on, but bid her before she left: "Will you do something for me? Please talk to Lucas, the stable boy, and please tell him that I am sorry for leaving him and that... if love were enough I'd still be here." Eloise scooped her up into one last embrace before she left and the door of the cell closed with a resounding thud. She watched the retreating form of Eloise, until she could see her no longer.

* * *

Eloise was standing beside him with a cold, defeated glare. He had been worried about her last night. Had been worried that she would have gotten lost in the storm and harm would befall her. She had left in such a frenzy and right then Sir Edward had realised how determined and head-strong his niece truly was. She would not let herself be detered from her goal. If she was passionate enough about what she wished to achieve, no one and nothing would stop her. And at that moment, Sir Edward had recognized that she would not abandon the Shadow, she would not let him prohibit her. And he did not wish to, at least not right now, as he could sense her pain as if it were his own. He could see the agony in her eyes, as her maid was led to the gallows and the noose was pulled over her head to rest on her neck. He knew that Eloise was fond of the girl. Knew that Eloise had loved her as a little sister. She would take this harshly, as she would no doubt believe that the girl's death was her fault, since the impressionable young thing would have been swayed by the heroism of her mistress. Sir Edward resented the fate that awaited this girl, and he could only hope that Eloise would not find herself in a similar situation. He would not be able to stand burying his niece.

Vasey started to read the charges against the young girl, who was clearly trembling out of fear. He pitied her, no one deserved to die so young. Vasey declared that her punishment was to hang from her neck until death and Sir Edward put a reasuring hand upon his niece's shoulders to offer any kind of consolation. The executioner pulled the lever, the trap door opened and Isabella fell through, her neck breaking in the process, her feet resembling a pendulum, swinging to and fro. And that was the moment, Eloise collapsed and fell unconscious.


	16. The Camouflage of Love and Hate

Chapter 16

_"Bury all your secrets in my skin, come away with innocence and leave me with my sins. The air around me still feels like a cage and love is just a camouflage of what resembles hate again"- Snuff, Slipknot _

She sat upon the stool in front of her looking glass and furiously brushed her ginger locks. She had behaved horridly earlier. She had retired from the evening earlier and gone up to her room to find a maid from the kitchen, laying out her clothing for the next morning. She had angrily demanded what the meaning of this was and the servant, accostumed to Eloise's soft spoken, kind and delicate manners, had not answered her. This only served to further anger Eloise, who had started to scream at the servant histerically, garnering the attention of all, who were present in Knighton Manor. Her uncle had entered the room and tried to assuage Eloise, while assuring the flustered servant that she had done no wrong. Eloise had not been prepared for someone other than Isabella tending to her needs. She, of course, knew that she would need another maid to take care of her. But it had not been a day since Isabella's execution and Eloise was not ready to already replace the maid, who had become her dearest friend. So she had behaved cruelly to the servant, effectively unloading her anger and misery upon her. She had not deserved that. She was an innnocent and had no fault, other following than following her master's orders. Eloise had never screamed at a servant, alwas respecting them for the devoted service they showed her. But, she had not been herself, driven mad by grief and anger and hatred.

Yes, she was angry. And she had never been so angry in her life. It felt like she could explode, from the rage she had pent up inside her. She had released some of the tension, when she had screamed at the poor servant, but she still was so wrath filled, that she feared it would overwhelm her, drive her to the brink of insanity and then send her down this dark abyss. She was angry at Vasey, but she had not expected him to show any mercy. She knew exactly what he was capable of, knew of his cruelty and had no expectations of him. So her anger at him was one that was at peace, she supposed, one that didn't scratch at her insides like claws trying to rip her apart. But, it was exactly that feeling that she had toward Guy of Gisborne. She had begged him to help Isabella, she knew that he could have done something, could have prevented the pain she had felt. But he had forsaken her, in her darkest hour. Had abandoned her in her obvious distress, like it did not matter to him. It probably didn't, for the man only cared for his ambitions. She had assumed that he had a slight partiality toward her, due to the amount of time they would spend together. And she had shared the affections, she thought him to have toward her. She had always thought that there was another side to Gisborne, that had circumstances been different, he would have been the best of men. Loyal, kind, and filled with integrity. And she had come to care for him, for he had shown her this side of him, she was assured no one else saw, had come to care for him despite his faults. Had come to appreciate his affections. But she had most cruelly, discovered that her affections were not shared. Had most cruelly realised that this side she saw in him, was imaginary, wishful thinking on her behalf. That is why no other saw the virtue, she imagined in him. And she had grown angry, at herself most of all, to have been so deceived by her naivety.

And hatred coursed within her, within her veins like the most deadly of poisons. It was not hate at Gisborne. It was a deep and all consuming disgust at herself, for she could not bring herself to hate Guy of Gisborne with all the power contained within her. She could not bring herself to damn him, to wish him dead, so that the world would finally be rid of his cruelty. Of his depravity. No, the thought of Guy dead, his quiet, strong presence forever eradicated from the world, caused her distress, caused dread to rise in her heart and for that she hated herself. She hated herself, because as she thought of Guy she still felt that tenderness rise within her, that excitement which only he could cause. She was spitting upon Isabella's memory by not wishing the world's greatest misery upon the man, who had killed her, and for that she hated herself. She knew that for not hating Guy, for still retaining her affection toward him, she would go to hell and suffer, agonize in the flames of purgatory. She was dishonouring the memory of Isabella, was betraying her, but try as she might she could not hate Guy.

Eloise, with self disgust, coursing through her, devouring her alive, started to brush her hair with renewed vigour. With an intent to hurt herself, so absorbed was she by her self-punishment that she had not heard Robin approaching behind her. The outlaw was staring at her with sympathy and concern colouring his gaze. He put a calming hand upon her shoulders, in an attempt to calm her distress and extricated the brush from her hands, before she could cause herself true harm. Eloise buried her face in her hands and started sobbing in earnest. Robin hugged her from behind and whispered small consolations into her ear, as she shook with grief. Simply holding her, consoling her. But the whispered words of Robin simply served to distress her further. She was undeserving, did not deserve his sympathy and his friendship, for she was a traitor. Eloise turned in Robin's embrace and slung her arms around the outlaw's neck and embraced him tightly. Desperate for human contact; in hope that she would achieve the same consolation she had gotten last night, while Guy had held her. But it was not the same. Perilously, she asked, in hopes that Robin could clarify her confusion: "Why can't I hate him? He is a monster, he killed her. Why can't I just hate him?" She sobbed. Robin did not need clarification to whom the desperate questioning refered to. "I don't know." He stated dejectedly, while kissing her forehead. "I just don't know."

* * *

"Why should I trust you? This could easily be one of Hood's schemes." Gisborne stated to the sandy-haired, bearded man before him. Allan stood in front of the tall, menacing, imposing man, slightly intimidated by his questioning. "You don't know why you can trust me, but I am the only thing that can bring you closer to your goal of seizing Robin." Allan stated, with feigned confidence, though he knew that the dark knight before him could easily see through his front. Allan no longer desired to live in the forest, he wished to be pardoned and if working with this brooding man was the only way to do it, he would risk it. Guy eyed him with distrust and distaste and said: "Very well, but rest assured that betraying me will be your must rued action. I do not share Hood's same self-righteous, saintly morals." Allan gulped and turned to leave, when Gisborne dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Allan was starting to resent his decision. This was a man, without a soul, who cared for nothing but himself and his powers. But that was not true, Guy of Gisborne did care for something else. It was obvious to all the outlaws, that Sir Guy cared for Eloise, the girl, who had become a friend to Robin and to all the outlaws, eventhough John and Will still showed distrust toward her. It was clearly apparent that the dark-clad knight cared for the red-haired, kind woman, clear to everyone except Robin that is, who seemed still in denial that Sir Guy of Gisborne was human and thus capable of falling in love. A denial, obviously spurned by his own affections toward the girl, that obviously blinded Robin to the truth. As Allan thought about Eloise's interactions with Robin and the outlaws and the blatant familiarity and closeness she possesed toward Robin, which almost bordered on intimacy, he could not help but feel pity toward the dark Knight, who was clearly blind to Eloise's betrayal toward him, by her breaking the law, Gisborne fought to uphold. He turned back to the leather-clad, brooding man and said: "A word of advice, do be cautious of who you place your trust in." With that he departed, leaving behind a confused Lord of Locksley.


	17. To Forget and To Pretend

chapter 17

**_The following chapter was incredibly difficult to write, because I can't imagine what it is like to lose a friend, like Eloise did. So it was difficult to capture her emotions and her internal conflict pertaining Guy. I hope that I did a fair job at it, while keeping all characters in character. Please review and share your thoughts. Again thank you to all, who have reviewed, favourited and followed my story._**

* * *

_"Forgetting all the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well. Pretending someone else can come and save me from myself. I can't be who you are"- Leave Out all the Rest, Linkin Park  
_

It had been a week since Isabella's execution and Eloise's pain over the loss of her maid was still fresh. She still felt guilt and responsibility over the girl's death. The lifeless image of Isabella's dangling body as it swung, almost mockingly, almost flauntingly, from side to side still haunted her dreams and thoughts. Her anger had not diminished- rather her self-disgust had increased, as she had taken great efforts to despise Sir Guy, but still found herself with the same conflicts that had seized her last week. She damned his name everytime he entered her thoughts, she thought of his depravity and would compare Isabella's sweet nature with his malificent countenance, cursing the injustice of fate, that someone as Guy of Gisborne still retained his life, while Isabella, her sweet, loyal, kind maid had perished. She had taken great efforts to build up a brigade of hatred within her, directed at Sir Guy. But that is all it had been. Efforts. Exhausting, arduous efforts, for they yielded no results. And this caused extreme horror to seize Eloise. Surely her inability to hate Guy reflected the immorality, the calamity of her own soul. To still think of such a demeritorious man, not with malice, but still with predilection, only showed the villainous nature that slumbered deep within Eloise. Only showed that she was a treacherous bigot. Furthermore, she suffered. Not only due to the feelings of guilt and pain that Isabella's execution had caused, but she suffered- and she hated herself for that, for still being partial to his opinion of her- of the pain his obvious demonstration of impartiality had caused. It was obvious to Eloise, that he did not care for her, as she did for him. She was reluctant to cause anyone pain, but the thought of seeing Sir Guy in pain, distressed her more than customary. But he had not minded her pain, had not wanted to speak on her behalf. Had feared the repercusions and the efforts it would take to rid her of her pain. He did not take efforts on her. But, pertaining him, she was invariably plagued by exertion. Plagued by the exertion of coming to despise him, plagued by her inability to do so, and haunted by the affections she felt toward him. She was now in the same agony, which had inhabited her during her formative years. A pain and conflict, that she knew only too well, that seemed to be her constant companion, that had become a part of her, which was as essential as a limb. It was the agony of caring for someone, who only had indifference to spare in return. For her father had never shown her any care, any nurturing, any sign that suggested she was more to him than another living being. She had tried to earn his admiration, his love, had been greedy for it, just as Vasey was ravenous for money and power. But no matter what she would do, he never took notice of it. But she had felt bound to him, her craving for fatherly love had been like iron chains. She had thought that after her father had passed, she would have been free of her personal prison. Had felt an oppresive weight coming off of her chest and had for the first time in eight years been able to breathe properly. But, now it seemed, as if she would never be free of it. It seemed as if her old captor had been lurking in the shadows, so that after having known what liberty was, he could confine her once more. And now his victory would be so much sweeter, for her incarceration would pain her so much more after having a taste of release. Knowing this and fearing it, she still could not help but to crave it- to crave him, like an eternal masochist. Yet, she did not want it, did not want to be completely and solely dependant on the affections of a man, who was everything she was supposed to hate, who was her enemy and opposite in every sense of the word. So after arduous contemplations, she had come to a resolve pertaining the brooding knight. She would avoid him, would disregard him. But at that thought, she felt a yearning in her chest, a yearning for their rides out. For his silent, strong presence and their meaningful conversation. For his touch and the electric shock, the blissful agony it would induce.

She had not chanced past him in the last week. It had been consciously done, for she did not know how she would react to him, now that she posessed a new-found knowledge of how much she truly wanted him. So, she had avoided him. She had avoided everyone, to be awfully accurate. The past week, she had become greatly introspective and introverted, truly only interacting with others, when there was a vital need. She had not ridden out on Lark during the day, for fear that she would ride across Locksley and chance upon the dark-humoured knight, who was the object of her every rumifications. She no longer engaged with Sir Edward in their nightly conversations, which had become a component of their daily lives. Her uncle could see that she was grieving and in pain, but thought that her misery only sprung from her maid's passing. Eloise could tell that he was growing tired of her behaviour, as her coldness and unreactivity pained him. He also seemed to be distressed by his inability to console her, his words delivering little balm to her wounded soul. He had been understanding when she had told him, that she needed time to recover from her mourning, and Eloise could not criticize his patience, but she could tell that it was starting to run thin. She had also avoided associating with Robin. As customary, when she was not able to meet him in Sherwood, he had come to her chambers in the evening. He had seemed hurt and disappointed, when she had frostily dismissed him. But Robin was more obstinate than she had previously imagined, for he had returned every night of the past week, despite the almost-certainty of her dismissal. The only component of her routine before Isabella's death- a time which seemed so far back, eventhough it was only seven days ago- was her nightly wanderings as the Shadow. This was the only time, that she felt like her life was not burdened by the conflicts and complications, which had arisen on that fateful morning, when Guy had rejected her pleas. Then, she felt like the old Eloise- the one, who would arrive at Knighton Hall to her boisterous, fatherly uncle Edward and her sweet, endearing maid. Her nightly raids also managed to free her mind of the thoughts that uniterruptedly ghosted through her head. So, except for in the late hours of the crepuscule, she would sit at home silently, without any desire to do otherwise.

But today, she had awoken with an euphoria to do something, anything. The thought of carrying on the behaviour she had engaged in for the past week, physically pained her and she was unable to sit still, to remain stationary. The sunlight, that filtered through her grand windows had awoken her. Once she had regained consciousness, a flutter had cursed through her body. Oscillations, that demanded and encouraged her to rise from her bed and move toward the broad windows, which overlooked her uncle's lands. Greatest was her surprise to see that everything looked just the way it had one week ago, but seemed still vastly different all the same. Her uncle's people still retained their appearances and still walked through the streets of Knighton, to start their day of work. The landscape had not changed. She could still see the rolling, green hills, which separated Knighton from Nottingham and she could still see the ominous, grey, cold walls that enclosed that settlement. To the east, she could see the rising sun, as it only started to make its daily path across the cloudless, blue sky and she could see the healthy, evergreen vegetation of Sherwood Forest. She was almost sure that were she to be within the woods, she would hear the sonance of the awakening woods. She would be able to smell the crisp morning air and the dew, which had not yet transpired in the warm morning sun, that shone, on this late April morning without mercy without reservations, on England. Nothing had changed, yet it seemed to her that the world around her had kept going, kept evolving, kept moving, kept changing. Only she had remained static, stationary. And as this realisation hit her, she became indignant and this indignation caused her to get dressed and had motivated her to do something other than sitting in her halls, like one of those desultory ladies, she had always abhorred. No, as she saw the world outside, that had moved on without her perception, she knew that she would adapt, and for that she would get out of her uncle's halls.

* * *

She was kneeling on the grassy expanse in front of Knighton Hall, tending to the daffodils that had started to bloom and were sprouting from the ground in all their glory. She was picking the most handsome and healthiest of the yellow blossoms and depositing them in her bassinet. She regarded the yellow flower, so full of life and beauty, with dew drops decorating the leaves like naturalistic crystals. So tender, so delicate, yet so powerful for they had blossomed from a ground that had been frozen and unfertile shortly before. She could not help, but look at the daffodils as a sign of hope- not only for their cheerful, inspiring colour, but also because it was a symbol that life had gone on and that she would need to as well, lest life pass her by and she would forever wallow in her self-pity. Her uncle had been surprised, when faced with the new found euphoria she had sported in the early morning. She had come downstairs with the intent to tend to the flowers, that had started to bloom in front of Knighton Hall. This was normally a task, which would be carried out by the servants, but her uncle had seemed so glad that her cheerful and joyous spirit had somewhat returned, that he would have allowed her anything, if it would have gotten her out of her self-imposed wallowing. Red was lying beside her, content to absorb the sun's rays in its red, translucent fur and to observe Eloise. The little fox had been her constant companion during the past week, not detered by her silence and her listlessness, simply choosing to lie on the dysphoric girl's feet, never relenting its hopes on her. She became aware that in her misery, she had neglected several of her loved ones- Red, Lark, Sir Edward and Robin, and she felt ashamed of herself for her weakness and her self-pity. So, it was in that moment that she became obstinate to return to her old spirits. She would overcome Isabella's death. No longer would she feel grief at the memory of her maid, but longing and happiness at the joyful times they had spent together. She would replace the thoughts she had, which mostly concerned her maid's last moments with the cheerful memories of carefree, friendly conversations and feelings of kinship.

Eloise was engrossed in her task to tend to the flowers, while at the same time being receptive to her surroundings, to every sound, every detail in hopes to acclimate herself after her self-imposed confinement. So, when she heard the familiar sound of horse hooves approaching her, she turned around and was met with the image of Sir Guy riding toward her. She could recognize his silhouette as he approached her on horseback, the sun behind him, shining brightly, and giving the impression of a halo surrounding his tall form. He was as usual dressed in his foreboding attire of black, and this menacing impression he gave with his dark clothing, contrasted greatly with the saintly light surrounding him. At seeing him, Eloise's first reaction was to suspire, for a longing that she had not yet taken notice of, for it had integrated itself within her, seemed to have been alleviated by his appearance. The pace of her heart had quickened and as he approached she took notice of his appearance- he had not changed, he still looked the same, as he had that night he had acquiesced to her wishes and had held her and consoled her more than anyone else, simply with his quiet presence. He still looked the same as that morning, where she had truly experienced his cruel nature. He still looked the same- as if he was the only thing that had remained constant in this ever-changing world, alongside her, as her comfort, her company. She felt that old affection and tenderness well up within her, as he rode toward her, and she kept observing him, waiting for him to come to her. But then, she remembered herself. Remembered the pain he had caused her, the internal conflict he had generated, the way he had caused her to become a fifteen-year-old girl again, whose single thoughts and actions revolved around a man's affections toward her. No, how dare he come back now, that she had decided to move on? How dare he come to show her, that like herself, he had not changed, thus destroying her previous determination to evolve? She would not become complacent, would not change her wills to his moods. She grabbed her basket and scooped up the previously slumbering Red into her other arm and with fierceness, she turned her back to the approaching Lord of Locksley and entered Knighton Manor.

She walked past her uncle in the direction of the kitchen to deliver the flowers. Her gait hinted at fierceness and anger, as her uncle questioned her well-being: "Is everything all right, Eloise?" "It's Sir Guy of Gisborne", she spat in her agitation "He has come to call and I do not wish to speak to him." She hastily walked to the kitchen and lay down Red close to the warm hearth, then started to busy herself with arranging the flowers, she had picked. However, her hands were shaking with disquiet and her attempt at the task proved unfruitful. The kitchen servants told her, that she did not need to trouble herself with the labour and discreetly ushered her out of the kitchen. Eloise reluctantly moved toward the hallway, which adjoined the entry, where Sir Edward was surely conversing with Sir Guy. As she moved closer, she could hear the exasperated voice of Sir Edward: "Eloise is not predisposed to receive visitors today, Sir Guy. If you would please come back tomorrow." "I just saw her outside tending to the plants. I simply wish to talk to her." Eloise grew angry and exasperated at the man's inconvenient insistence. It should have been obvious enough that she did not wish to see him, when she had fled at his sight and her uncle had made it abundantly clear that she did not wish for his presence. Yet Sir Guy did not seem detered. She was still angry at him for what had happened to Isabella, was he that clueless to think otherwise? Now, he was causing her uncle irritation. In a haze of rage, she went up to her chambers and grabbed her bow. She took an arrow, positioned it in her bow, drew it back and moved with a tigerish fierceness toward the entrance, where her uncle was currently besseching the dark knight to leave. She moved past Sir Edward and stationed herself in front of Sir Guy, simulatenously raising her bow and assuming an offensive, shooting position. As she held him at arrowpoint with a fierce, steely gaze, Guy's blue-grey eyes widened in surprise. "I believe my uncle has told you to take your leave." She stated in a matter-of-fact voice. "Eloise, I wish to talk to you." Guy said, in his deep and raspy voice that caused goosebumps to rise on her skin. He was looking at her with a placating and infuriantingly neutral look on his face. His continued stubbornness only caused the rage in Eloise to increase and she stated acerbically: "As Sir Edward has previously stated, I am not predisposed to receive any visitors. I would ask you to leave." She cursed herself, that she could not keep her voice as frostily neutral as his. "Eloise, be reasonable. Lower that bow, you look ridiculous." he stated with exasperation colouring his voice. At his tone and the insult, Eloise's nostrils flared and she released the arrow. It breathed one inch past Guy's right ear and lodged itself in the bark of the tree that stood behind him. His eyes widened in shock and he looked behind him and for a few seconds simply observed the arrow, that had missed him by a hair's breadth. He looked at her, disbelief apparent in his eyes. Schooling her features in the most neutral expression, which now came to her more easily, as she had released some of the tension she harboured within her, she coldly stated: "Next time I shall not miss. I would advice you to take your leave." With that she turned around and entered Knighton Manor, assured that her uncle would no longer be bothered by Sir Guy of Gisborne, today.

* * *

She had been avoiding him out of anger. For the past week that thought had only been an assumption, a suspicion on his part. One that he had attributed to his abnormally large concern for her opinion of him. He had not seen her for the past week, eventhough he had been at Locksley everyday on the lookout for her distinguishable form atop her white mare. He had been at Locksley, the same time everyday that he knew she would normally pass by Locksley, waiting and hoping for her appearance. But he was to be severly disappointed. Her presence was never there to offer him a respite of the memories from the last time he had seen her. That day he cursed with all the power of his soul. The memories that kept haunting him were the memories of the way she had last regarded him, had last spoken to him. Intermingled with the thoughts of her kind eyes and sweet voice, was the contemptous glare of betrayal she had given him and the cold and snappish tone of her voice as she addressed him. He had never felt so wicked, so foul in his life. The thoughts still agonized him. But this agony was one that was painful and deranged him for they were intertwined with his yearning for her, which had only intensified over the course of the past days, as he felt her presence acutely. So the past week he had longed for her, desired her, wanted her, but silently, secretly, as he had decided to not called on her. No, it would have implied too much and he knew that if he went to her in his current perilous state of mind, that one look at her would have brought him to his knees. Revealing how deep his want for her was, how much she affected him, how great his despair for her was. And he was not ready for her to know how much power she had over him. Not, when he himself had not accepted the influence she held over him. He would not show his vulnerability pertaining to her. So, he had waited for her to come to him. He had waited for seven days in vain, and then he had decided to go to her. The thoughts he had the past seven days pertaining to her had not changed, not lessened in their intensity, but at least he felt that he was in a more composed state of mind.

On his ride to Knighton, he had steeled himself, built up barriers to his emotions concerning her, all the while fearing that one look at her, one fleeting glance would cause the carefully erected walls to crumble. She had looked so lovely, as she was tending to the April flowers. He had not seen her in a week and he had missed her. His yearning for her only increasing, as he came closer to her, but still not close enough. She had looked over her shoulders at him, and he had seen a slight softening to her tense posture, but then her tender gaze was replaced with one of determination, as she scooped up her belongings and fled to Knighton Manor. He had felt hurt, that she did not seem to welcome seeing him again, as he did her, but her slight to him, only caused him to become more determined to talk to her. Faced with her rejection, he had been able to steel himself and appear neutral outwardly, eventhough his every sense was on alert to capture any detail pertaining her. Sir Edward had told him that his niece was not predisposed to guests, but he had been insistant, spurned on by a need to see how she would react when confronted with him, with no escape in sight. He needed to see her reaction toward him, needed something, anything. But Sir Edward was adamant to not disturb Eloise. She had come out to face him out of free will, but she had trained her bow at him and held him at arrowpoint, with an irritated look on her face. Guy had not been expecting that reaction from her. She had told him to leave, but even when threatened he had not discarded his goal to converse with her. He had at first not felt threatened by her holding the bow. He had assumed that she did not know how to use it and was only holding it, in an attempt to scare him off. He had become exasperated at her defiance and had insulted her. This in turn caused her nostrils to flare and she had looked at him with a wrath he had never experienced in her docile gaze. It had disconcerted him and the next thing he felt was the arrow whizzing past his right ear and lodging itself in the tree. Any doubts he had pertaining her aptitude in archery were dispelled and he had felt impressed, as well as indignant simultaneously. But, he had acquiesced to her wishes, he had left, as he knew she would not receive him that day.

Now he stood on Vasey's right side. It was the council of nobles, but any discussion pertaining politics and finances were blended out as he fixed Eloise with a gaze so intense that he felt, as if his gaze posessed the ability to penetrate her soul. He could not understand the reason for her wrath toward him. He would not have been able to save her maid. Vasey would not have listened to him, driven by his hunger for blood and his desire to hurt Eloise. He had wished he could have done something to spare the girl her deathly fate, when faced with Eloise's pain. He would have done anything to spare her of her grief. But he knew that any beseeching on his part would have been in vain. The Sheriff would have not pardoned the girl and she would have still been executed. Despite his inability to change the girl's fate, he had still felt guilty that morning. Not, because he had failed to save the girl, he had no pity for lawbreakers, but because he had felt as if he had failed Eloise. Especially, after she fell unconscious when exposed to the dangling, lifeless form of her maid. Instinctively, he had rushed forward to catch her collapsing form, but was stopped by Sir Edward, who was already supporting his niece's fallen form. But, this girl, she was only a maid to Eloise. She could not have been that important, even if Eloise's desperate behaviour had suggested otherwise. The maid was surely not important enough to cause her to be angry at him for an entire week. The maid was surely not important enough to cause her to hate him. She was after all a servant, so beneath the caste he and Eloise inhabited, that any affections toward these simple people could not be more than thin and superficial. But he knew better, he knew her better. Knew that her compassion, her kindness knew no bounds, knew no distinction between people and classes. And this caused the throbbing within Guy's chest directed at Eloise only to intensify, but also caused him indignation and desperation. She had been angry at him for a week. She showed no signs of reconciliation. Perhaps the girl was important enough to cause her to hate him for his inability to spare her of her fate. At the thought of Eloise hating him, his heart constricted painfully. Never to see her look at him with kindness and tenderness on her fair face. Surely, if she hated him, any possibilities of redemption would be lost to him. He would be eternally damned, never cleansed of his sins, as he would have been if he would be with her. The thought of her regarding him, thinking of him in the same manner all others did, caused his breath to quicken and panic to seize him. No, she was his salvation, his saving grace, she was meant for him, she could not hate him. But, she had been avoiding him. No, avoiding him was not the correct term to use. Because that term would have implied that she was aware of him, no, she was indifferent to him, disregarded him, as if he was not even present.

He barely registered that Vasey had dismissed the council. His every thought and action was poisoned with determination and intent, as he saw Eloise exit the hall. He did not take account of any happening around him. His mind was focused only on Eloise, as he followed her, exiting the hall through the dimly lit corridor. He was certain that she registered his approaching foot steps, as the sound filled the otherwise silent corridor. Still, she kept walking toward the courtyard, ignoring him. She was alone, Sir Edward had stayed behind to assist Vasey with the cataloguing of the monthly taxes. Perhaps, his almost crazed mind had imagined it, but he had detected a slight quickening in her step. In response to this, he walked toward her his long legs taking wide strides, with more determination and assuredness. She would not escape him. "Eloise" He called out hoarsely to her. She kept walking, as if she had not heard his call to her. "Eloise, stop!" He stated in his booming voice. Faced with so clear a demand, she stopped and her posture tensed, as he approached behind her. She kept her back to him, only relying on her sense of sound to inform her of his position. He walked toward her and stopped only when he was close to her, perhaps much closer than the code of chivalry deemed proper. But right now, he disregarded any propriety, as he was close enough to inhale her sweet, flowery scent that clouded his mind and caused hunger to stir within him. His proximity to her warm, soft body that a week ago he had felt fit against his and the thought of her porcelain skin almost urging him to inwardly howl like starved wolf at the moon. "Why have you been avoiding me?" He asked, when Eloise showed no sign of breaking the silence that had descended upon them. "I have not." She responded. Faced with her blatant lie, as the only answer to the thoughts that had been plaguing him for the past few days, he became angry and said through gritted teeth: "Do you take me for a fool? I have not seen you for the past week." "That is only natural. The only thing that connects us is the fact that my uncle was the previous Sheriff of Nottingham, and you are the right hand man of the current one. We are of no relation, there is nothing between us." This response, stated so matter-of-factly, caused white-hot rage to well up within him. He wanted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her, scream at her. Nothing between them? Did she not know? Was she so unaware, so oblivious to her effect on him? "You are angry at me. You are angry at me, because I did not acquiesce to your wishes last week. You resent me for something, I could have not stopped, no matter how influential I was." He accused her. "You may draw any conclusions you like, Sir Guy. It is all the same to me." With that dismissal, she was about to walk away, but he stopped her by saying: "You are so intent to see and find in me a culprit for her execution, that you do not stop to wonder if she was not perhaps responsible for her own demise." With that she whirled around and with a glint of rage in her eyes, she fiercely stated: "How dare you speak ill of her? You killed her, the least you can do, the smallest courtesy you can show is to respect her memory." "I did not kill her. She was going to die either way, Vasey would not have pardoned her." He hissed angrily, at her, seeing that she was intent on making him responsible for her friend's death. "Why do you try to rationalize your behaviour to me? You clearly did not care for my thoughts last week. Why can you not leave me at peace?" She said with an agonized, questioning look in her deep blue orbs. So, that is what she thought, that he did not care for her opinion, that he did not care for her. Oh, how wrong she was. He cared too much, cared more than he wanted, more than he should. Especially, as he looked at the pained look in her eyes and he felt it, as if he was sensing his own agony. He only looked at her and whatever she saw in his gaze was too much for her to endure, as she averted her eyes to the stone ceiling above them and slowly shook her head, before turning around, no doubt in departure. In a last desperate attempt to keep her, because her walking away from him now had a tone of finality and closure that ached him, he stated: "I never meant to hurt you." She stood still for a few, agonizing moments, as if deliberating her course of action. Then, she walked away.

Guy exhaled and his shoulders slumped. He felt exhaustion replace all the agitation this conversation had caused him. Now all he felt was weariness and a numbing sense of loss. He leaned against one of the stone pillars, that lined the halls of Nottingham castle, to support his defeated figure. He once again exhaled and closed his eyes. The numbness, then, gave way to frustration and to dispell this self-depracating feeling that had started to spread thorugh his body like a wild fire, he thumped his head on the hard stone surface behind him. Then he simply leaned his head back and kept his eyes closed. He did not know how long he stood like that, having lost any perception of time.


	18. Won't Trust Myself

Chapter 18

**This chapter is entirely in Sir Edward's POV. I wanted to give my readers a third party perspective on the interactions between Guy and Eloise. I thought it was a good idea, while I was writing the chapter. Let's hope I still think the same way after reading your reviews. As always thank you so much to everyone, who has taken their time to review, favourite and follow. I really appreciate your feedback. Please let me know I am doing writing Eloise. She's my progeny and my first OC. I really hope I have been able to keep her in character and have not turned her annoying. Also how has Guy been? Now that we are progressing deeper and deeper into romance, I have been hesitant writing him. I don't want him to be OOC. Read, Review and Share your Opinion! :)**

* * *

_"Take everything from the inside and throw it all away 'cause I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you." From the Inside- Linkin Park _

His niece was not happy with him. It was the day of the May Tournament and it seemed as if the weather was cooperating with the events planned for today. It was a warm day with the sun shining upon them, the clear blueness of the sky uninterrupted by any cloud or other uncomely obstruction. It was not oppresively hot, but a temperature, which suited the outdoor activities planned to take place today. The heat would not impede the people of remaining outdoors for an extended amount of time to enjoy the entertainment. Sir Edward moved up the stairs and as he entered Nottingham Castle, a chill took him. The interiors of the castle were always undeniably frosty, yet he had thought that some of the heat outside would have permeated through the thick stone walls. He did not remember the halls being so cold, when he had inhabited the castle of Nottingham during his time as Sheriff, but that had been almost four years now and he was becoming forgetful, as his age progressed. Each time, after returning from the council of nobles, Eloise would superstitiously tell him that the constant algid state of the castle was a reflection of the state of the soul of its current owner. Thinking the observation to be amusing and harmless, he would agree with her. Now, as he moved through the cold halls toward her location, he thought that his niece was truly not content with him and the situation he had inadvertently put her in. Today was the day of the May Tournament, which would see dozens of Knights from Nottinghamshire and the surrounding area engaged in mock sword combat. This entertainment was seen as a celebration of the arrival of the month of May, which was symbolic of the beginning of summer. Gone was the bereaved winter season and the difficulties it brought. May would bring all good fortunes and wealth, as the land would be blessed with fertility. Accordingly, it was the tradition to honour this day and people were meant to forget their sorrows and hardships through games, ale and entertainment. The knights of Nottingham would be engaging in battle, to prove their superior skill and prowess, with knights from the surrounding counties. The winner would be crowned as the most prevailing, powerful fighter; the less fortunate would soon forget their humiliation through several goblets of ale and the company of a fair maid. The others would enjoy the divertment the fights would bring, before also indulging in ale and other forms of entertainment, which could vary from feasts to the more amorous sorts of activity. All in all, the general mood that people were found in today was one of cheer and contentment.

The exception was Eloise, who was unsatisfied with the situation he had put her in. After the last council of nobles, he had stayed behind to assist Sheriff Vasey in the cataloguing of the previous monthly taxes. Vasey, avaricious as he was, did not truly enjoy the May Tournament, as it was an unnecessary investment of money in his opinion. He would have to sponsor the festivities. Not only would he have to finance the large feast that was customary to take place in the evening, but he would also have to spend his coveted money on the Tournament, to ready the grounds and provide the prize for the victorious knight. Vasey was loath to part from his precious gold. So, much of the time Sir Edward had spent in his company, cataloguing the taxes, he had also had to endure his constant grouse about how unnecessary it was to host this festival. But Vasey knew he had no choice, but to comply. The May festivals had been a tradition for as long as anyone could remember, surely they had been existent since the beginning of time. They were a needed source of divertment not only for the people, but also for the nobles, who enjoyed the festivities immensely. So eradicating the festivals was not a choice, since this action would cause not only discontent among the common people, but also among the nobles. But this did not stop Vasey from complaining. In an attempt to appease him, Sir Edward had suggested that he provide other valuables, as prize. At this Vasey had gotten a contemplative look on his face and had urged him to further explain this proposition. And Sir Edward had complied. He had suggested that he give the winning knight items of clothing, such as a length of velvet, or perhaps animals, such as a swift horse or a noble hound. Perhaps, Sir Edward had suggested, he could give him the company of a fair maiden at the evening's feast. At this least costly suggestion Vasey's eyes had brightened, and he had proclaimed that he would lower the customary prize money of six golden coins to three and would give the winner the company of a fair maiden during the evening's feast. Sir Edward, in an attempt to end the conversation, had told Vasey that he thought this idea to be agreeable. The Sheriff had gotten a mischievious glint in his eyes and had declared, that since the thought had come from Sir Edward that his niece deserved the honour of being the knight's prize. Sir Edward was not pleased with the idea, he did not want to expose Eloise in this manner and did not like the idea of her being viewed as an object to win, as a prize. Furthermore, he knew that she would loath the idea. She was much to freewheeling and nonalligned for that. So, he had tried to discreetly extricate Eloise from Vasey's plans. But it had been in vain, Vasey had seemed determined that Eloise would serve as the winner's spoils. With this determination, it had been impossible for Sir Edward to spare his niece this situation. He was subservient to Vasey, as all Lords and Ladies of Nottinghamshire were. Furthermore, he knew that Vasey had suspicions of his corroborative actions toward the outlaw Robin Hood. He knew that if the Sheriff wanted to, he could condemn and execute him for consorting with outlaws. So it was best not to oppose Vasey on matters too frugal. He had agreed with Vasey and had told Eloise of the arrangement. She had not been happy and had admonished him for his accquiescing to the demands of Vasey. He had explained his reasoning, which had appeased her slightly and eventhough still clearly unhappy she had accepted the role she would play during the tournament, for the sake of their safety.

But her acquiescing had not stopped her from being angry at him. And he could clearly see that she was still incensed, when he entered the chambers, where she was getting ready. Eloise was sitting on a stool, with two chamber maids preparing her. She looked slighty disturbed at all the fussing over and primping of her hair, not used too so much time wasted on her appearance. As she repositioned her gaze to see who had entered, she gave him a dark look, which seemed to accuse and blame him for the uncomfortable situation, she was currently in. Sir Edward could not stop the slight smile that came to his lips. His niece looked lovely. Her hair had been slightly curled and then pinned up in a loose bun, which pulled back all her hair to expose her comely features. She was wearing a dark, faint yellow dress with discreet beading, which exposed her collarbones and slender pale neck. Seeing that the maids were satisfied with their result and had finished their preparations, Sir Edward prompted her: "Are you ready, my child?" He held out his arm to escort her to the fields, where the tournament was about to start. She did not move to take his arm, but with a disgruntled look on her face said: "Not quite. If I am meant to be a prize, I shall be properly wrapped like one." With that she reached behind her and pulled out two lengths of cloth. Seeing his saddened look at her harsh tone, her features softened and she said in a softer voice: "I shall find my way to the grounds, as soon as I am done. Thank you, uncle." Slightly appeased by her more sympathetic behaviour, Sir Edward nodded and left the chambers, closing the door behind him. He then moved toward the tournament grounds.

* * *

The tournament grounds consisted of a field just outside Nottingham, conveniently placed right before the entrance to the stone encircled settlement. Wooden benches had been erected for the attending villagers, which were placed in a circular fashion to provide a good view of the fighting arena. The nobles all sat in the galleries, which were wooden pavillions erected to provide shelter, if the weather decided to turn disagreeable. The Sheriff sat in the centre of the pavillion, thus having the most fortunate view of the fighting below, and to his right sat Sir Edward. He was looking at his surroundings with slight awe. The whole area was blazoned with colour, the sickly yellow and black shades, which normally draped the horses of the Nottingham Guard, now proudly displayed in long flowing cloths, which decorated the wooden benches of the commoners, as well as the pavillion of the nobles. Knights that did not originate from Nottinghamshire also displayed their caparisons to show allegiance to their respective sovereign. However, these occasional splashes of colour seemed almost insubstantial when contrasted with the flowing sea of yellow and ominous black. It was almost impossible to hear his own thoughts, as they were drowned out by the raucous hubbub, caused by most every inhabitant of Nottinghamshire, who had assembled here. In the centre of the fighting grounds a small, wooden podium was located were the designated orator would open the event with a moving speech. From that circular stage, four wooden rails went out, to divide the remaining ground into four fighting zones, where simultaneously four pairs would fight one another, until one of the knights would yield. The victorious knight would then carry his identifying emblem to the jurors, signifying his elegibility for the next round. Had all knights engaged in their first battle, the second round would commence and a singular rail would cut the fighting ground in half, so that the public would see two fights going on simultaneously. This setting would remain until only two knights were left. Then the wooden rail would be removed, allowing the two finalists to use the whole of the arena in the final battle.

Sir Edward spied out of the corner of his eyes a veiled figure ascending the stairs to the pavillion, where all the nobles were currently located. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the figure was Eloise, since it wore the same handsome, yellow beaded dress. He had to frown at the willfulness of his niece. She had taken to wearing the two long pieces of cloth, that she had pulled out from behind her, back when he had been in her chambers. She wore a thick pale pink cloth to cover her hair, the fabric flowing freely down her back. She also wore an opaque veil to conceal her face and features. The items served to completely conceal her attributes from all, who had gathered. She approached them and then sat herself upon the chair located beside her uncle, closely to Vasey, who was looking at her choice of attire with disapprovement colouring his features. Now upon being at closer proximity to her, he could slightly discern her facial features beneath the thick veil. He could see her startling blue eyes and her soft pink lips, but he was assured that no knight could discern the appearance of their prize by the slightly disappointed look that many of the foreign knights were fixing his niece with. She kept her head held high, an air of solemnity exuding from her, which stood out against the mostly cheerful backdrop. He could see that his niece was gazing upon the fighting ground, letting her eyes sweep over each of the men, who could potentially win her company for the evening. Sir Edward saw her start slightly when her gaze fell upon Sir Guy of Gisborne, who was standing in one of the four designated fighting areas, his sword drawn at the ready. The tall, brooding man was wearing a black armour with details in wine red as ornamentations, and was exuding an air of determination and menace, which seemed to slightly frighten his opponent, who stood meekly before him, withering under the man's intense gaze. She studied Guy for a few, long seconds before dropping her gaze, no longer bothering to further inspect the tournament grounds. He knew that Sir Guy had a partiality to Eloise. It was obvious by the increased attentions Guy paid to Eloise, and by the softening in his steely unforgiving gaze, as he looked upon her. No doubt, he had only enrolled in the tournament to win the company of his niece for the evening, not having participated in the event the previous years, despite his unquestionable skill. Sir Edward's suspicions were confirmed, when he found the serious man fixing his niece with a long, determined, burning gaze, which she failed to meet due to the bowing of her head.

Before the execution of her maid, Sir Edward had thought that the affections of Vasey's right hand man were returned by his niece. She had always welcomed his presence, when he had come to call on her, and accepted his invitations to ride out. She would also regard him with a soft look, that spoke of her care. A look that Sir Guy never usually received. After the morning of the execution she had become awfully introspective for an entire week and had not interacted with anyone, prefering her own company to his and to Robin Hood's, who he knew she had befriended. He had been suprised that when Sir Guy had called on her, she had been adamant to avoid him. What had surprised him even more was the cold, angry glare she had looked upon the dark knight with. One that was filled with contempt and hurt. From then on, Sir Edward had been more reluctant to admit that his niece still harboured affection for the cruel man, who she surely blamed for the death of her friend. Over the past few days he would have been more inclined to state, that his niece was solely indifferent to Sir Guy.

The orator was moving toward the central podium with long, confident strides. He ascended the podium and turned toward the audience to start his speech. He spoke of the courage of men and how since the beginning of time, it was an attribute that distinguished the members of their gender from all other creatures on God's green earth. He spoke of the necessity of battle and how deity had bestowed men courage, so that they could engage in battle. He spoke of the honour received from battle, and of the sanctity of martyrs, who sacrificed themselves in battle. He talked of how God smiled upon the knights, who fought to preserve his celestial apotheosis. Then, he explained the rules of the event today, how the knights would engage in one to one sword combat, until one of the knights desisted by yielding. The winning knight would deliver his identifying emblem to the jurors, thus classifying him for the next round of battle. The men were allowed to use only the weapon, they had on their person, and were not to receive any outer help from their squires. He said the fights would proceed, until only the two best remained. These would then battle it out in a final, electrifying fray, where only the best and most deserving would emerge victorious. He then spoke of the prizes, which all knights no doubt were familiar with, but which the orator was bound to mention: "The champion will not only have proven his superiorty to any men here present, he shall also receive a recompensation of three golden coins, as well as the company of the fair Lady Eloise of Knighton, during tonight's feast. Though concealed, it is said her beauty is the material of legends. We shall all hope to catch a glimpse, when the winning knight has been crowned. Let the fights begin!"

And so they did, Sir Edward quickly became engrossed by the moving men below, as they fluidly tried to beat their opponent. They parried and attacked and to Sir Edward, who had due to his deteriorating physical capabilities long not engaged in mock battle, it seemed like an intricate, elegant dance. He could see the determination of the men to prove their skill and virility. No doubt most longed for victory, for the self-satisfying effect of recognition. He heard Eloise gasp quietly, almost in awe. He looked over at his niece, who seemed completely engrossed by the happenings below. He followed her line of sight and saw Sir Guy standing with his right foot perched upon the chest of his opponent, who was now lying on the ground, mere seconds after the fighting had commenced. The trembling man was announcing that he was yielding, closely eyeing Guy's sword, which was trained on his neck. At his opponent's exclamation, a victorious grin spread over Guy's face and with that triumphant expression, he looked up to the pavillion no doubt at his niece. Not dropping his self-satisified smirk, Guy retrieved his emblem without taking his eyes of Eloise, before breaking their visual contact to deliver his emblem to jurors.

From then on Sir Edward observed studiously the duels, which Sir Guy engaged in. The first round had quickly come to an end, harrowing out the less skilled half and leaving only the most capable of the knights that had assembled. He watched as Sir Guy took on his second opponent, who was far more capable than the first man he had been up against. But the increased skill of his rival did not yield a different result. With deadly precision and fierce ferocity, Sir Guy once more emerged victorious from the bout. As the villagers cheered for the dark clad man, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, his niece start forward, seeming as if she wanted to rise, as her enthusiasm at the victory seemed to override her solemn propriety. The next opponent Sir Guy took on looked much more menancing than the previous two had. Though not taller than the statesque right-hand of the Sheriff, he was much broader than Guy and seemed intent to beat the leather-armoured knight. He, in turn, did not seem intimated by his opponent's aggresive demeanour, simply taking a defensive position. Glancing to his right, he saw that Eloise was staring at the battle, which he too had been so studiously watching, as if hypnotized. Her breath had seemed to quicken, as he could distinctly see the rise and fall of her chest. The two man were circling one another, both assuming a defensive posture, glancing upon each other, as if weighing out the other's skill. Suddenly, the broad man went on the offensive and swung his sword toward Lord Gisborne's shoulder. Sir Guy paried that swing and for a good time, the tall leather-clad knight was simply on the defensive, fending off his opponent's relentless swings. They fought in this manner for a long time and eventually the broad man was beginning to tire. He once more forcefully brought down his sword, when he saw an opening in Guy's stance and had it not been for his quick reflexes, Sir Guy would undoubtedly have been hit by his rival's weapon. The steel of their swords sonorously meet and Sir Guy threw off the other man's sword with an unexpected force, that caught his rival off guard. Seeing his opportunity, Guy began to attack the broad- shouldered man with a tigerish fierceness, seizing the dominant position of the offensive. The man tried to regain his previous dominance, but with each thrust and parry, his previous prepotency dwindled, until he struggled to even fend off Guy's rapacious attacks. Guy managed to disarm the broad man and, seeing no alternative, the bald, broad man declared that he would yield. The crowd erupted in cheer, enthusiastic at the result of this enthralling battle. Sir Edward heard his niece exhale deeply, like she had been holding her breath for the entire time during the battle. She tipped back her head, and closed her eyes in obvious, unconscious relief, as she loosened the firm grip she had on the arms of her chair. As he studied his niece, he thought that perhaps, she was not as indifferent to Guy, as she had wanted to convey for the past few days.

* * *

The final battle was now upon them. Sir Guy had taken all of his opponents down and had secured a finalist position. The other knight, who had managed a similar feat was Sir Gwaine from York. The two men could have not been more opposite in their appearances and behaviour. Sir Gwaine seemed to be an agreeable, handsome man with red curly hair and a full beard. Throughout the tournament, he had been sporting a goofy smile, which had caused his opponents to not take him seriously. Great had their surprise been at the obvious skill of the Knight, which now rivaled Guy's. He, with a ferocity equal to his final rival's, had quickly managed to beat all who duelled him. He had swiftly become a favourite of the public, due to his undoubtable skill and his playful demeanour. The two men, who were now so close to victory, were gazing toward the pavillion. Their eyes undoubtedly trained on his niece. Both looked hopeful, however, there was a carefreeness to Sir Gwaine's look, which further brought out the intensity in Sir Guy's gaze. The battle had commenced. Both contestants were circling one another, like vultures. Not one seemed willing to start the combat and the two simply stared at one another, the hostility blatantly obvious to all gathered. Sir Guy then chose to end their studying of one another and thrust his weapon toward Sir Gwaine. He, in turn, was prepared to parry his rival's attack. That is when their movements became one in Sir Edward's eyes, a continual flow of attack and defense, like a labyrinthine, sophisticated choreography. Their movements carried out with identical elegance and coordination, their strokes so agile that it was impossible to discern one from the other. Sir Guy had managed to disarm Sir Gwaine, but he was agile and able to escape from Sir Guy's violent handling of the weapon. Eventually, and Sir Edward did not know how, both men had ended up on the floor and were now engaged in hand combat. But then, Sir Gwaine pulled out a dagger from behind his back and held it under the dark-clad man's chin, thus rendering him helpless. The red-haired knight looked up at his opponent with a victorious look upon his face, while Guy simply stared down at him with hatred, defeat and anger storming in his grey-blue orbs. For a few moments complete silence descended upon the fighting arena, as all held their breath awaiting what was to occur now. Sir Gwaine had not broken the rules set forth, for he had used a weapon that had been on his person. The two previously battling men simply kept studying each other, as complete silence surrounded them. Sir Guy's defeated, deep voice broke the silence: "I... yield."

With that ear-splitting cheers and applause filled the arena, as people expressed their euphoria over the winning knight. Sir Edward looked over at his niece to discern her reaction. She held her head high, gazing up at the triumphant man, but he could detect a slight slumping to her shoulders. Sir Gwaine, who had risen from the ground after roughly pushing his opponent off, now strode cockily toward the pavillion. As he came to a stop before the wooden construction, Vasey rose and his sovereign stationing at the front of the pavillion caused the still cheering crowd to sober and as silence once more surrounded them, he stated with a efficacious voice: "I declare you, Sir Gwaine of York the victor of the May Tournament. You shall receive your prize of three golden coins, as well as the company of the fair Lady Eloise at tonight's feast." With that Vasey turned back and held out his hand toward the seated Eloise, silently urging her to take it and come forth. Eloise hesitated for a few seconds, simply looking at Vasey's outstretched hands, before taking it and rising to stand beside Vasey, in front of the man, who had won her. "Congratulations, Sir Knight." She stated in a mellifluous voice, while she kept her gaze trained on the ground. Sir Gwaine smiled at her addressing him and stated: "May I see you, fair Lady. I have after all fought in your honor this entire day." She looked up at Sir Gwaine's smiling face, in consideration. After a few moments of hesitance, she raised the veil over her face to reveal her features. Sir Edward could see that Sir Gwaine's eyes lighted up in delight at seeing his niece's lovely features. The knight's delight was so great, that he did not see that Eloise kept her eyes trained on his defeated opponent, who looked at the scene before him with anger and longing, written plainly on his face.

* * *

He had been observing Eloise and Sir Guy the entire evening. The feast was joyous and indulged the whim any of the present could posess. He silently watched as his niece interacted with the boisterous Sir Gwaine. He seemed like a pleasant enough man, and Sir Edward supposed that he should have been glad that one of the more chivalrous knights of the bunch had been victorious. But he could not help but pity Sir Guy, who had not taken his eyes off his niece. He could not blame him, his niece was garnering the attention of several of the knights, who had fought today and now, after having seen her, looked even more disgruntled to have lost. But Guy's gaze was so yearning, so beseeching and he had not taken his eyes off of her for one second, as he jealously watched Sir Gwaine and Eloise conversing. His niece had seemed content enough in the presence of Sir Gwaine, but her uncle had seen that she would periodically glance at Sir Guy, only to look angry at herself for her almost unconscious actions. He sighed, Eloise obviously still resented Sir Guy and was not willing to recognize her affections toward him, which had been so plainly, blatantly obvious to Sir Edward during today's tournament. He knew his niece was headstrong and that she would stubbornly refuse her affections toward Sir Guy, while she was still angry at him. He could see that his niece was trying to come to hate, to be indifferent toward the brooding man, but was profoundly aware of her inability to do so. At her conspicuous avoidance, Sir Guy had drowned his goblet of ale more quickly and had been drinking a lot. Judging by the amount of wine the Lord over Locksley had ingested, he was no doubt intoxicated, as he kept glaring at Sir Edward's niece over the top of his goblet.

Throughout the course of the night, he became distracted and when he returned his focus to watching the silent interaction between his niece and the Sheriff's right-hand man, he found that both were not to be found within the hall, where the feast was being held. Worry packed him and he stood to go in search of the two individuals. He had been wandering the halls and was just about to turn the corner, when he saw his niece walking in his direction with determination. Sir Guy following her, angrily. Curiousity seized him and he moved out of her way, to conceal himself in the shadows to further observe his niece and the man, who was quite obviously infatuated with her. They had not seen him and Eloise looked angry, as she tried to flee Sir Guy, who was adamant on persuing her. The leather-clad man grabbed his niece's wrist, causing her to whirl back to face him and she angrily admonished the brooding man, as he stared down at the red-haired agitated girl with equal anger, his nostrils flaring. They were too distanced and Sir Edward could not overhear their whispered conversation. They were illuminated only by the faint glow of nearby torches, otherwise they too would have merged into the shadows, as Sir Edward had. He watched as Sir Guy argued back in a hushed whisper, unrelenting in his confining grasp on his niece's wrist. He too looked as exasperated as Eloise seemed, but his gaze also held a desperation and heartache, as he stared down at the girl before him. Suddenly, Guy snaked his free arm behind Eloise and lay his hand on the small of her back. With a swift move, he pulled her closer to him so that their bodies were now flush against one another, their proximity and their embrace disconcertingly passionate in nature. It was improper, and Sir Edwrd should have taken measures to separate them from this position that was far too intimate for his comfort, but he was struck speechless and simply watched on. His niece seemed to be in a similar state of shock, as she gazed up at the dark man, who looked upon her with yearning. And then he overheard it, and it caused him to turn around to depart in the direction of the festive hall, just after seeing his niece respond by her features contorting with self-doubt for a second and then her shaking her head and freeing herself of Sir Guy's embrace. Sir Edward moved back to the feast, discomfort coursing through his veins, as well as the feeling that he had seen too much, had heard and discovered too much, as Sir Guy had tenderly embraced and passionately held Eloise in his arms and with a voice that cracked with longing had asked her: "Please."


	19. Solemn Dahlia

Chapter 19

_"She is everything and more. The solemn hypnotic. My dahlia, bathed in posession." Vermillion- Slipknot _

He had invited her to his home, to dine with him. It had been one week, since his humiliating defeat at the May Tournament, where he had been forced to yield her to his cheating opponent, after being so close to victory, so close to having attained her. After that, he remembered little from the day, having indulged in ale to dull his humiliation and the ache he had felt seeing another in the position he had so dearly coveted. He had periodically gone to call on her at Knighton Hall, and she had always dismissed him, but he felt that her reception of him had become less algid and rancorous and he would often find that she would gaze upon him with a questioning glance that he did not wish to understand, for he knew that he would probably resent the cause. He felt that she had grown less resentful toward him, but she was still infuriantingly distanced and falsely polite. But, this morning when he had impetously invited her that evening to dine in Locksley Manor with him, she had seemed so surprised, but then after some hesitance she had accepted his invitation. So, now he stood in his halls in front of the lit fire place and awaited her arrival. She had been to his estate before, but that time they had been surrounded by other nobles, and the crowd around them would have impeded any more intimate interactions between them. She had seen his lands, but their daily rides always held a more formal atmosphere, despite being immensely enjoyable to Guy. He knew this evening would be different, would be different from any previous interactions they had had. Yet, this atmosphere, which would no doubt seize the pair this evening, did not seem as outlandish to Guy, which suggested that more had happened that first day of May. He tried to remember, but despite his exertion he could not recall what he dearly wished to. The night brought promise of a mellow mood between the two, as well as a hinting at a more sensual intimacy, which caused him to become aroused. His desire only increasing, as he remembered her exposed collar bone, her slightly-parted, soft pink lips, the warmth her body exuded.

Guy was pulled from his rumifications, when he heard horse hooves from the outside. He told Thornton, his man servant, to tell the kitchen maids to start laying out dinner, as he moved to receive his guest. He stepped outside to find Eloise handing her white horse to one of his stable boys, the same horse, which she was loath to part with. She had told him that she had had her horse Lark for years now, and that she had learned to ride on him and would ride with no other, if she could help it. The stead was apparently a present from her father, the same father that had disregarded her, while growing up. The father, who had denied her affections, when she found herself wanting for it due to the untimely death of her mother. Her father - and he knew this now- whose cold indifference had caused the perpetual look of melancholy in her deep blue eyes, that had been one of the first things that had intrigued Guy about her. Had endeared this red-haired, carefree sprite to him, since he found that beneath her cheerful guise was pain and emotion that made her real to him, that he adored. She turned around and, at seeing him standing in front of his home waiting for her, she smiled a cordial smile, but he could see the reservation in her eyes. He knew that she had not yet forgiven him for the death of her maid a fortnight ago, and sometimes, as he lay awake at night, he feared that she would never be the same toward him. That, that cursed day had revealed to her his true nature, that she had lost some of her innocence and naivety pertaining him, and that his true nature was so despicable to her. But, at the same time he was determined not to let her go. Not, when she was stood before him in all her loveliness. Not, when he knew that she existed. Not, when the simple act of being with her, cherishing her would absolve him of all his sins. Not, when he had discovered that she was salvation and absolution, and that being with so pure a creature would no doubt save him. He sometimes feared that her being with him would destroy her. No doubt a creature with so eminent a soul, could not be with a monster like him, without being polluted, without it corrupting her. He knew that if he was a better man, he would have let her go. But, it was impossible to resist her. He could not stay away from her, since it seemed as if there was an invisible thread connecting the two of them- a thread that urged his heart to always lead him to her. He knew that he could not abstain from the feelings that her presence caused him, any doubt to refrain from her had been metaphorically washed away that day in the rain, where they had been so close and had he not been so cowardly naive he could have made her his.

"Good evening, my lord." She stated in a cordial voice, as she broke the silence that had descended upon them, while they simultaneously studied one another. He nodded his head in greeting and bid her the same greeting, before extending his arm to escort her into his home. She did not hesitate to take it, and he proceeded to lead her into his estate to the dining hall, where their evening meal had been laid out.

* * *

They had dined in silence. It was not uncomfortable and was reminiscing of the companiable quietude, which had always accompanied them during the rides out, exploring the area surrounding Nottingham and Locksley. Sir Guy was simply content to gaze upon the woman sat in front of him, who serenely ate her dinner. He had never enjoyed the company of others, while he ate his dinner, for his opposite would always find the need to converse with him out of convention's sake. Sir Guy was a solemn man, who enjoyed tranquility rather than meaningless conversation. This preference could have sprung out of his disregard for others, and his inexistent concern for the well-being of individuals other than him. Being the Sheriff's right-hand man and Lord over Locksley saw him interacting with others, more than he cared to, but his position brought him affluence and wealth, and he thought these two items to be valuable enough for him to endure the occasional superficial conversation with a lord of the neighbouring lands or the vexatious dalliance of some of the ladies at court. He would indulge them for his own gain, but he never questioned his preference for solitude, as he welcomed returning to his affluent estate- a symbol of all he had achieved- to find it waiting for him and offering him harbour. But, as he looked upon the girl sat before him, he could not help, but question his previous preference. Surely, companionship was not as bad if she was the one who offered it. She, who offered company to him, while recognizing his need for silence and who offered him comfort simply with her presence and with details about her, which he would absorb like a sponge. Like how she scrunched up her nose, while taking a sip of the wine, still not completely used to the bitter taste of beverage. Details like that, that caused a soft smile to grace his lips, which had been previously so used to frowning. He could not help, but wish that the situation he found himself in now, observing her as she sat in front of him, would become a daily occurence. Not for the first time, he imagined how Locksley Manor would differ if it had a mistress, wondered what his evenings woul be like if she was there to offer him unwavering company, wondered how his day would be, if he knew that she was in his home, awaiting his arrival. These thoughts caused the thumping in his chest to intensify and he drained his goblet in an attempt to calm his speeding heart.

The sky outside had turned dark. Both Guy and Eloise had finished their dinner and, while their dishes had been removed, they had not vacated the table, indecisive over their next course of action. Eloise features were lighted by the faint light of the candle, as well as the illumination the flames in the fireplace provided, which Eloise had been studying with a small, content smile on her lips. His senses were not dulled by the alcohol he had ingested this night and he was painfully aware of his every thought and action. He was painfully, soberly aware of the desire that coursed through his veins, as he saw her red lips contort with a smile of comfort and contentment. As he saw the red that marred her cheeks, no doubt caused by the ale she had drunk tonight. Through his haze of lust, that had packed him impulsively, he saw her smile drop and a look of discomfort replace her previously serene expression. She squirmed slightly under his burning gaze and with a low voice addressed him, without meeting his gaze: "Please, stop looking at me like that. It makes me uncomfortable." She rose out of her chair and moved toward the fireplace she had previously studied, in an attempt to exit his line of sight. Slightly abashed, but with determination still coursing within him, he rose and followed her before he was standing behind her at a distance, that was still respectable. He studied her from behind and saw the slight hunching of her shoulders. He, simultaneously longed and feared to see her reaction. He longed to see the effect he had on her, but feared to see it, lest it not be what he hoped it was. "Forgive me." He stated in a husky voice "It was unconsciously done." He saw her nod her head slightly, appeased. A new determination packed Sir Guy and he said: "Allow me to show you something." She turned to face him and regarded him with confusion at first, but then after moments of inward deliberation, she nodded her head to show her acquiescence. He held out his arm once more and she took it, and then he lead her to the chambers, which contained his treasures.

* * *

She had been looking around her with slight awe. She had been confused, when they had first entered the room, but at his explanation that this is where he kept his wealth, her confusion had cleared to give way to awe, as she glanced at his affluence. He could not help, but feel cockily prideful, as the girl that he coveted admired his achievings with undiluted wonder. He could not completely rationalize why he had felt the need to show her his wealth. It had probably sprung from his desire to have her view Locksley Manor, as a place where she would find comfort, where she would have her every heart's desire fulfilled. He stated in a self-assured tone: "As you can see, Locksley Manor is quite affluent. A place of comfort. Its mistress shall never want for anything." At this her head snapped toward him and she studied him with a questioning glance, urging him for anything. Seeing that he was not going to acquiesce to her wish, she said: "No doubt. She shall be a lucky lady." Indignation packed him at her obliviousness and nonchalance, and with new found bluntness he questioned: "Would being mistress of Locksley be a destiny you would find fortunate for yourself?" She staggered backward by the emotional force of his question and looked at him wide-eyed. Silence descended upon the pair, as she looked at him, her eyes submerged in incredulity. Eventually she whispered: "I believe it is time for me to return to Knighton. Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Guy." With that she turned to leave and with quick strides made for the door.

No! No, he would not allow her to leave him. Not, now. She would remain here with him, for as long as he deemed fit. Because right now, he was not satisified. He was not satisfied by the way she had reacted to his news. He was not satisfied by the questions the reaction he had seen, had invoked. His long legs taking wide strides, he approached behind her, thus caging her, so that her body was pressed between the wooden door and his own frame. He could feel every curve of her anatomy, the warmth she exuded, her delicate scent and the sensation threatened to overwhelm him, but he was still intent on stopping her departure. He put his hand upon hers that now touched the doorknob, no doubt to open it. He felt her inhale sharply, as she felt his form so closely behind hers and he could see how she tipped her head to the side, studying almost reverently their intertwined hands. The skin on skin contact caused the exposed skin on Guy's hand to burn with rapturous agony, a burning that aroused him, while he was painfully aware that she could feel every crevice of his body, just as he could with hers. Slowly, she turned around and raised her gaze almost reluctantly to meet his eyes. He knew that he was revealing himself completely through his eyes, bearing himself completely to her, putting himself at her mercy. Revealing everything he had tried to hide from her, since their earliest interactions, out of self-perservation. But right now, he could not bring himself to care what his eyes revealed. Not when it was so late at night and everything seemed to matter so much. Not when he was quickly discovering that he adored everything about her and he wanted, needed her to love him with the same desperation. Her eyes darkened in response to what she read in his eyes, her breath quickened and he felt her chest pressing against his. At seeing her take her lower lip between her teeth and the way her eyes regarded him with innocent desire, he tipped back his head as his lust threatened to conquer him. He groaned wantonly and asked hoarsely, desperately almost to himself: "What have you done to me?" He gazed back at the girl before him, whose face contorted as she seemed to be witnessing an inward conflict, a result from his behaviour toward her. She closed her eyes and averted her gaze to the side, willing the agony which he caused her away. But, he did not want her feelings to leave her. He needed her to be in as much torment as he was now, wanted her to feel the same bliss the passion of his throes caused him. He took her chin between his hand and raised her head, so that her gaze would be redirected to him. The passionate torment he witnessed storming in her blue eyes, threatened to once again overwhelm him and his eyes flickered to her lips, which were parted, as she struggled to breathe. He regarded them with pure adoration before leaning down and bringing his own close and closer.

A knock on the door and the agitated voice of one of his subordinates pulled them out of their passionate reverie. Through his disappointment at being interrupted, he gathered that he was needed at Nottingham, due to a nightly raid the outlaws had staged. He cursed having been so close to having her completely to himself, for the first time completely surrendering to her, but unable to do so. He closed his eyes in frustration and her soft, shaking voice broke him out of his musings: "I believe duty calls, my lord." She seemed to have tried to compose herself, but still seemed out of sorts. She opened the door and stepped away from him into the hallway, thus creating distance between them that seemed to sober Guy. He nodded at her and then at his guard, signalizing that he had received the message the guard had been bound to convey and would follow shortly.

Eloise was sitting atop her white mare looking down at him with a soft smile. She would have to ride to back Knighton in the dark of night and he worried over her safety, despite knowing that Eloise was not as helpless as the other ladies at court. He had insisted that one of his guards accompany her, but she had denied any accompaniment stating that she would be safe to ride the short distance from Locksley to Knighton. And she had gotten that obstinate look on her face, that Guy knew only too well by now and which he knew meant that she would not accept any of his guards accompanying her. Not when, as she had stated, all were needed to ensure the safety of Nottingham. So, he had acquiesced, but this did not stop him from looking at her darkly and stating through gritted teeth: "I loath to leave you to go home unaccompanied." At his concern, she smiled a tender smile and told him: "I shall be alright. You have greater things to worry about now." With that she nudged her horse and rode off in the direction of Knighton. He looked after her until he could see her no longer, before mounting his own horse to deal with the problem at Nottingham.

* * *

The Shadow was agilely moving through the streets of Locksley, euphoria quickening the figure's steps as it thought about the task it would carry out tonight. Once seeing the immense wealth contained within the walls of Locksley, the figure had grown indignant. The accumulated money could be used to lessen the misery and hunger of the people at Locksley. Instead, it was lying in a room not to have any function, except providing self-gratification to its lord. So, with the newly acquired knowledge, the figure had formed a resolve. The Shadow would use the absence of Sir Guy at Locksley to steal a small portion of his wealth, that would no doubt to be more than sufficient to feed his people for a couple of months. But the stolen money would not only have the function of providing comfort to the people of Locksley, but the indignation the theft would cause the Sheriff's right-hand-man would avenge the death of the maid Isabella, the sweet and innocent girl that had perished under the Lord of Locksley's cruelty. The Shadow was obstinate and would see this theft through.

With this resolve, it quietly entered the chamber where the treasure was located, through the window. The Shadow took geat care to move silently to not alert any breathing soul in Locksley Manor of its presence here tonight, as the figure scooped up the golden coins into the sack it carried with it. The hooded figure was completely engrossed with its task to collect the money and fulfill its quota as quickly as possible. The Shadow had a foreboding sense of anticipation and dread coursed through its veins, as it feared the return of Lord Gisborne. But, he was no doubt busy dealing with the outlaws at Nottingham. Surely, he would not return so quickly, perhaps he would even spend the night at Nottingham. Still, the figure moved quickly and only stopped as it heard the sound of a door opening. The figure's heart stopped and the seconds seemed to slow. The silence was broken when the familiar, deep voice owned by Sir Gisborne spat: "You!" venomously. Having been caught, the Shadow agilely rose and ran to the window. Perhaps, he could reach it before the Lord of Locksley could capture him. New found hope coursed through the masked figue's veins, as it saw its escape coming closer. The hope was cruelly ripped away, when it felt two strong set of arms seizing it. The figure squirmed and tried to free itself of its confinement. It jabbed its elbow into Sir Guy's stomach causing the leather-clad man to emit an "oomph" and loosen its grip. Seizing the opportunity, the Shadow again tried to escape through the window, but was stopped by Sir Guy, who thrust a poisoned dagger into its right side. The figure tried to contain its yelp of pain, through gritted teeth, lest it reveal its identity. The dagger wound caused resolve to rise in the figure. It would get out of this alive. With unprecedented force, it shoved its booted foot into Guy's chest causing him to distance himself. With the lack of proximity between the figure and the enraged dark-haired man, the Shadow climbed through the window, thanking God for its timely escape.

It landed on the ground with heavy feet and ran with a surprising agility, considering its throbbing wound to its horse, which was stationed just outside of Locksley. It moved quickly, so that Sir Guy would not have time to alert any of his guards, that could be stationed nearby of its escape. Reaching its white horse, the Shadow mounted quickly and the horse, sensing the urgency of its owner, took off quickly. The dagger, which the Shadow had not removed in fear of the damage it would cause, was lodging itself and moving within the wound more painfully with each trot of the horse. In an attempt to lessen the pain, the Shadow put its hand on the wound and immediately felt a warm liquid seeping through its clothes and staining its hand. Quickly, the Shadow rode on in the direction of Sherwood Forest.


	20. Turns to Ash

Chapter 20

**This chapter is the big one! OMG I am so nervous about publishing it. Please review and tell me what yout though of it. Was it realistic? I am like frantic right now. **

**To: **

**UKReader: Thank you for reviewing so faithfully. You rock. I am glad that you enjoyed the scene in the treasure room, but it was necessary to have Eloise steal from Guy. For reasons, which you shall see in this chapter. I hope the whole stealing thing was not unrealistic and stupid. I want to show that eloise is still really conflicted about Guy, cause on one side she is still incredibly angry and on the other side she can't help how she feels**

**Guest: Firstly, I'd like to thank you for pointing out that grammatical mistake. I did fix it and I appreciate that you made me aware of this mistake. Secondly, I am sorry that this error put you completely off my story. Oh well. Can't please everyone, I suppose. **

**Everyone I really enjoy all the views, but I would like some more reviews. Just drop me a line. It shall keep me motivated and going. **

* * *

_"My insides all turned to ash, so slow. And blew away as I collapsed, so cold." Valentine's Day- Linkin Park_

The forest had always been a source of comfort to Eloise, with its evergreen foliage and the massive, towering tress, which she felt concealed her from danger's unwanted eyes. As a child, she had spent more time in the forest than at her father's estate. The forest had become a sanctuary to her. Would offer her silent invigoration, as she ran from Chester Manor and the oppressive weight of her father's indifference toward her. Would offer her a playing place, where shielded from disapproving eyes, she could live out the fantasies her mind had crafted. She would await her knight-in-shining armour to come and rescue her from a horrifying beast. She would imagine fighting along her idol King Richard in the Holy Lands, as the most courageous of celestial crusaders, spurned on by her sovereign's unrelenting bravery and integrity. By his Lionheart. She would lie on her meadow, surrounded by sweet-smelling grass and musky heathers, silently listening to the chirps of larks, and cleansing her body by breathing in the pure air the greenery provided, while feeling the sun's unrelenting light shine ever-presently on her face. Even now, as she had progressed into adulthood, the forest offered her a meeting place with her friend, and offered him protection from his persecution. And for that safety, which the dense growth of Sherwood forest provided, she was thankful. She was thankful for its cooperation with her. In the woods, she was in her element, she felt free. It was her safe-place, her haven. She loves it here.

Correction, she loved it here. Because, as she rode through Sherwood Forest, completely engulfed in darkness, she could not help the feeling of dread, which coursed through her spine and threatened to conquer her. The sounds of the owls and other nocturnal animals did not sound cheerful and were not sweet to her ear. Rather, they only managed to disconcert her more as the sounds added to the ominous nature of the woods. She could not distinguish a single splash of green, as she glanced at her surroundings. It was as if Sherwood Forest had been painted entirely in a prescient black shade. The trees, which seemed to previously offer her safety and protection, now were only viewed by her as potential enemies, who were only waiting for her moment of weakness to advance on her. It was like the kindly trees had been possessed by baneful demons. Still, despite the fear that was seizing her, she rode through the forest in the direction of the outlaw's camp. She wondered that in her fever, she could still remember the direction, but attributed it partly to Lark, who despite the lateness of the hour had sensed his mistress' destination and was slowly hastily guiding her toward it, feeling her declining health. Eloise, not for the first time, thanked celestial will to have had united her with Lark, who was so in tune with her needs, was so familiar with her that they needn't even communicate verbally. Cold sweat marred her forehead and she lay down her heavy head on Lark's soft mane. Despite the warm May temperature, Eloise still shivered and the venom of the blade, which was still lodged in her side, was getting distributed all over her body through her treacherous blood. She felt tired and only wished to fall into a deep slumber, but she was aware of the consequences that giving into rest would have. She was so close to her destination, to her salvation, she only needed to resist the siren call of sleep only for a little while longer.

But it seemed, as if time only stretched longer. It seemed to her as if she was not approaching the outlaw's camp but, with each trot of her horse, distanced herself from it. Exhaustion was pulling her with added weight down the abyss of sleep, which she knew she would not return from if she fell. Perhaps, it would not be as bad. Hadn't she told Isabella, that what awaited them after death was much more pleasant, that one would know no sorrows in the afterlife? Why would she continue to fight on, when her life was so difficult, plagued with uncertainty and conflict? Wouldn't it be easier to simply give in, as she would be freed of her sorrows? Her mother would be waiting for her. She knew that. Her dear, darling mother, who had always nurtured her with unlimited devotion. Her mother, who would have wanted her to stay young and carefree for all her life, if possible. Her mother, who had loved her unconditionally. Her mother would be waiting for her, as would Isabella and she would welcome her friend with care and comfort. Thinking this, longing filled Eloise's chest and she felt a compelling need to give in to her exhaustion, her arduous efforts to stay awake now seemed senseless to her. She only wanted to give in, to close her eyes, to sleep.

She heard boisterous, cheerful voices through the feverish haze that had settled over her. With exertion, she cracked open her eyes and saw the light of a fire in the distance. Calling to her like a beacon, its call stronger than the hailing of sleep. Hope filled her, and she dismounted Lark to approach the light and no doubt Robin's men, which were gathered around the fire. As her feet, hit the ground she threatened to collapse, as the pain from the dagger lodged in her side became unbearable. However, her new-found determination to survive this ordeal was greater than any agony; so she gritted her teeth and kept her steadying hands on her wound to offer her some slight alleviation from the throbbing. On wobbly legs, she came closer to the fire, her guiding torch in the darkness.

Robin was not among the men, who were gathered around the fire-place. She registered the familiar faces of Djaq, John and Allan, who had risen when they had heard the sound of footsteps on the forest floor, coming in their direction. They had assumed defensive positions, sporting their weapons, no doubt expecting company with less friendly intentions than her. With her free hand, she made a placating gesture, not finding the strength to speak before drawing back her hood. When they recognized her, their postures softened, though their faces carried equal expressions of confusion at her late night visit. Though John eyed her with distrust, as he was the first to approach her, Djaq and Allan's faces were much more congenial. Their friendliness caused her relief and she came closer to the camp. Her legs gave out from exhaustion and she stumbled over her own feet. Eloise was stopped from falling on the floor, by John, who had caught her in his strong arms after rushing forward seeing the girl's misstep. She looked up at the man's grim face, which showed his confusion at her queer behaviour. The throbbing in her right side had become stronger and now the hand she had trained on her wound simply felt painful and asphyxiating. She peeled it off slowly, intent not to cause herself more pain. She stared in slight wonder and surprise at her blood-coated hand, which was no longer the colour of her pale flesh, but was deeply red-painted by the blood she had shed. Languidly, she raised her gaze at John, who was staring at her blood soaked hand with equal amazement, though his seemed darker and more worried. A oppresive haze fell over Eloise, and she barely registered as he bellowed Djaq's name. She looked up at him pleadingly and with the last strength she could muster in her fatigued body, she whispered: "Please, help me." The last thing she saw were John's concerned wide eyes, before she welcomed the darkness.

* * *

He dismounted his horse after having arrived at Sherwood Forest. Dawn was still a few hours off, but the darkness of night had diminished slightly. He stretched out his fatigued body. The raid at Nottingham tonight had been challenging, he had to admit, but he had heard that the Sheriff had, over the past few days, raised the monthly tax rate, thus leaving the villagers even more destitute. Robin and his outlaws had decided to recuperate the money, which had been unfairly taken from the families. It had gone quite well at the beginning, until an abnormally attentive guard had raised the alarms and the next thing he knew, he was fighting off Gisborne, who looked disgruntled at the outlaws having disturbed his evening. He and his men were surrounded by the heavily armed guard of Nottingham and Robin had seen no other alternative than retreating from the castle, lest he and his men get out alive. But he had not given up on recovering the money and returning it to its rightful owners, who would no doubt make better use of it, than the Sheriff, for whom the only function of money was the saturating of his greed. He was busy unbuckling his horse, when he heard the heavy hurried footsteps, characteristic of John coming in his direction. During the last ambush, John had slightly hurt his right foot and Robin had thought it better, that he would not take part in their raid, fearing for the safety of the broad, bearded older man, who had become a friend to Robin, similarly as all the outlaws. John, of course, had been disgruntled and had tried to change Robin's opinion by assuring him of his capabilities. The broad man had been in a bad mood, when Robin and the other men had departed, him being left, due to his inability to change Robin's opinion. But now, he came toward him with a disconcertingly concerned facial expression, and Robin, thinking that it pertained to the raid, jokingly said: "Don't worry mother. We were all careful." John looked at Robin and with a solemn tone said: "Robin, it's Eloise. She is hurt." Any previous cheer left him, and Robin grew cold at that.

After hearing the broad man's retelling of how Eloise had arrived at most an hour ago at the camp hurt, with a dagger lodged into her side, whose source none of them could explain, Robin moved toward the tent, where Djaq normally tended to the injured. Fear had packed him over his friend, and it had only increased when John honestly stated, that Eloise's situation was precarious and Djaq did not know what to do against the poison, which coursed through the red-haired girl's body. He entered the tent and the sight that greeted him caused his heart to contract painfully. Eloise was lying on blankets that had been laid out on the dirty, forest ground. She looked paler than usual. Her normally porcelain, ivory skin having adopted a ghostly quality. The pink of her lips seemed faded and at his inadvertent comparison of her to a corpse, panic seized him and his usually carefree features contorted with agony. Her hair was matted against her head, but still shone with that familiar, lively red tinge that contrasted so greatly with her deathly appearance. Her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and she seemed in the throes of an all-consuming fever. The only sign confirming her living status was the painfully slow rising and falling of her chest. He unconsciously moved toward her, needing to be close to her. At the sound of his approaching foot steps, Djaq looked up from her concoctions. She looked concerned, as well as sympathetic after seeing his expression of pain. She did not say anything, figuring that John had already extensively informed him and she did not possess any new information for him. Robin only had eyes for the feverish girl, on the floor. He slowly sat down beside her, scared that any abrupt action would cause a worsening in her conditions. He took her hand and was surprised to find it warm, her appearance suggesting that it would have been deathly cold. With his free hand, he tenderly pushed her soft, red hair back. Djaq seeing the loving, affectionate glance Robin was giving Eloise felt uncomfortable and decided to award the two individuals their privacy.

Seeing, that he was now alone with this girl he was surely infatuated with, he breathed: "Who did this to you?" He would kill the culprit, make their life a misery. Especially, if he were to lose her. Robin could not lose her, not when he had just found her, not when he had just now, as he had entered the tent to find her lying on the floor so vulnerably, realized how much he needed her to be in his life. Not when he had, just this second, realized that he loved her. She turned her head in his direction and he thought that she was looking at him through lidded, feverish eyes. He passed the hand he was holding over his cheek in a loving gesture and said to her: "You can't leave me. Not, when I still have need for you. Not, when I have just found you. There are so many people who still need you. Me, Sir Edward. Please, don't leave us." She did not acknowledge his confession, and simply lay there, plagued by fever. Robin did not leave her side, not when Much came to fetch him for breakfast, he did not leave until her fever passed, simply opting to sit by her side and observe her quietly.

* * *

She felt agitation, as she looked around her and could only see darkness. She felt as if she was being chased and her pursuer was conveniently concealed by the obscurity, while she felt exposed. She made attempts to run, but did not know whether she had move, made any progress, escaped, as her surroundings gave her no clue of her situation. She did not feel at peace, but rather felt tormented, haunted. And then she felt the undeniable urge to open her eyes. She had not been aware that they had been closed, but it explained why she could not see anything around her. So, she opened her eyes and the first image that met her was the ceiling of a tent. She could hear the early morning larks chirping in the distance and she immediately knew that she was in Sherwood Forest. More precisely, at the outlaws' camp. Now, more conscious than before, the occurences of last night came back to her and explained the sickly sensation that had gripped her, since she had awakened. She remembered her struggle with Guy as the Shadow last night. She remembered being pierced by the poisoned dagger, which was no doubt causing the fever, which seemed to reign over her currently. She felt as if she was dying, and, surely, this supposition was not too unrealistic, as she vaguely remembered the state of her wounds. How much blood she had lost. The thought of dying caused tears to well up in her eyes, she did not want to die yet. She had not yet made her peace with the life she had led. She was not prepared, but her mother and Isabella had surely also not been ready to die and she considered them more virtuous than she could ever be, so what right did she possess to wish to postpone her passing?

She felt cold, despite it being a warm May-day, and her head was heavy with ache. She let her head fall to the side, and as a result he came in to her line of sight. He, in his usual leather attire, holding her hand and studying her with an intense gaze. If she had been in a more sound state of mind, she would have rationalized that it was impossible for Sir Guy of Gisborne to be at the outlaws' camp, sitting at her side, on her deathbed. She would have rationalized that this was only a hallucination, a cruel craft of her delirious mind. But she was not in a rational mindset, her coherence being overridden by her febrile state and her joy at seeing him. She knew she was supposed to hate him, was supposed to feel resent at his sight. But, she had not been able to achieve what she had set out for, when she had been healthy. And now her delirium had obliterated all the painfully thin barriers she had worked so hard to erect. The walls he had tested again, and again. The night of the feast, were he had drunkenly beseeched her with so much yearning, it had sounded like he was dying. Last night, as he looked at her and she could read so much in his gaze. She could not bring herself to care, for she was dying and she knew she would die in torment if she continued to exert herself keeping up this farce she had built within her. She knew she would die weighted down, if she did not recognize how much she truly could not hate him, how much she cared for the dark clad knight. She was supposed to hate him, despise him, but it was her last few moments in the living realm and she knew she wanted to spend them in the bliss only he managed to generate, the bliss she had felt last night, the day of the rain when they had been so close and she was about to surrender to him completely and absolutely. Weakly, she raised her hands to rest it upon his cheek and stroked his strong jaw with her thumb, lovingly. "You're here." She stated in a broken voice. And as he looked upon her with care and concern apparent in his blue-grey eyes and fixed her with that dazzling smile, which she had only seen few select times, she knew that she loved him. The force of realisation hit her so strongly, that she felt like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Her eyes welled up with tears, as the emotions and relief that accompanied that realisation threatened to overwhelm her. She loved him and she knew it was wrong to love a man, as depraved as him, but at the moment, where she was sure she would die soon, she could not bring herself to care. She suddenly felt a staggering need to tell him, to confess all the secrets she had pertaining him, but she could not find her voice. The force of her emotions making it difficult to even breath. His dark brows furrowed, as he perceived her increasingly distressed state. Smiling tenderly, he bent down and kissed her feverish forehead. At the sensations his lips caused, she respired and the emotional turmoil she had been in, since discovering the true nature of her feelings pertaining the dark knight, diminished. "That feels good." She mumbled "Your lips on my skin." The last thing she saw before falling into darkness once more were his grey blue eyes. In the darkness that followed, she did not feel agitated.


	21. Back in his Halls

Chapter 21

_"But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear." -The Rains of Castamere, The National _

She had been healing from her wound for the past two weeks, and that time she had spent at the outlaws' camp. Robin had been insistent, that she remain there, so that she was in close proximity to Djaq. The Saracen woman had become her physician and had devotedly tended to her health the past fortnight. The first three nights she was seized by a strong fever that had induced delirium and had worried Robin and Djaq with its intensity. The fever would always pass in the morning, but would leave Eloise in fatigue after having perished under its strain throughout the night. The fourth night, her fever had not been as strong, and Eloise assuming she now felt better had wanted to rise and return to Knighton, to her, no doubt worried, uncle, but the Saracen woman had angrily ushered her back to her former sleeping place, admonishing her in her native language. Robin had sent Will the morning after she had arrived in the outlaws' camp, to inform his old friend, the Lord over Knighton, of Eloise's location and her conditions. Will had returned with a blind-folded, flustered Sir Edward sitting behind him on his horse. Her uncle had rushed to the sickly Eloise. He had been worried and angry, but did not admonish her too greatly. Eloise, however, knew that once she had been restored to her former health, she would no doubt have to endure her uncle's angry tirade, that she was sure built up within him, each time he came to see his niece, whose recovery had been taking quite a while. In his earlier visit, she would take little notice of her uncle or the others that surrounded her, for she was exhausted after a night in her feverish throes and was nauseous after having swallowed one of Djaq's herbal concoctions, which she despised even though she was grateful for the Saracen's efforts. So, the first few days Eloise had spent in a feverish haze barely taking notice of her surroundings, but as her health improved, thanks to Djaq, she became more aware of what happened around her and the visitors, she received. Her uncle had been relieved seeing that his niece was now responsive and on his next visit he had brought her Red, her beloved baby fox to provide her company. But it was not as if she was wanting of companionship, for Robin would spend his every free moment at her side, trying to cheer her up with his cocky humour. During their conversations, Eloise had perceived that Robin's gaze at her had grown more yearning and his touch more lingering, but she tried to think nothing of it. Still, she felt uncomfortable at his steadily increasing intimacy. She also longed to return to Knighton, to be back in her uncle's company and to lie once more upon her bed.

During one of his visits, Sir Edward had informed her that Sir Guy had called on her. She became agitated, wondering how her uncle was able to fend off the insistent man, without revealing her current location. Sir Edward appeased her by informing her, that he had told Sir Guy that Eloise had taken ill and her physician had deemed it dangerous that anyone should see her, due to the infectious nature of her ailment. Sir Edward had told her that the dark-haired man had seemed unhappy at being denied, but that he had acquiesced to Sir Edward's demands, though he came to call at Knighton to inquire after her health. At Guy's concern, she had felt affection rise within her, directed at the leather-clad man. She remembered her feverish realizations, concerning her feelings toward him. Remembered that in her desperation, in her fear of approaching death, she had finally come to terms with her love for Sir Guy of Gisborne. But her acceptance, did not mean that she was happy with the direction her heart had chosen. She was still painfully aware of his depravity and his sins. Was aware of his difficult, tempestuous nature. It would never be easy for her to love Guy of Gisborne, not when she despised everything he did with a passion. Not, when she was aware that while she fought for Robin Hood and King Richard, for England, that he would oppose her. He was an enemy to her, and the thought that she had fallen for the one man she never should have, pained her. That she had fallen for the man she was supposed to hate. Had fallen for her one enemy. The pain tore at her insides like sharp razors. The pain she had felt, when he had lodged the dagger in her side had paled in comparison to the pain of her realisations, for the pain of the dagger had come to pass over the last couple of days. But she feared that the pain her musings over Guy generated, would know no bounds, would never cease. And as she regarded the boisterous Robin Hood at her side, she cursed herself for not falling in love with him. Robin Hood was everything she stood for, he was everything she fought for and her admiration and perhaps even idolisation of the outlaw knew no bounds. So, why couldn't she have fallen in love with him? Why had destiny been so cruel to urge her to bestow her heart on the one man, she could never have, should never want to have? If her heart had not been spoken for, she would have without hesitance given it to Robin, who sat so faithfully at her side, as she healed.

Eloise wanted to return to Knighton. Now that she was restored to her former health. she felt that she was only a burden, if she remained at the camp, lying down the whole day, while the others worked diligently around her. Robin had been adamant and had disregarded her beseeching, when she had told him of her wishes to return to Knighton. He had denied vehemently her assumptions, that she was onerous, had told her that her worries were unfounded and admittedly, none of the outlaws had shown disgruntlement and dissatisfaction at her continued presence in their camp. She had spent an increasing amount of time with Djaq, who had not only tended to her wounds, but had offered her companionship, their bond over being the only women in the bunch strengthened by their increasing conversation. Both Much and Allan had been congenial and friendly toward her, and had brought her and Robin food if they had forgotten to gather with the others for a meal. Will Scarlett had been cordial toward her,but had maintained his distance to her. She felt that his occasional friendliness sprung from the friendship she had with Robin and Djaq, the latter he was obviously infatuated with. But, the thing that had surprised her most of all was the increased company of John. The broad, bearded older man had previously only shown distrust and wariness toward her. His behaviour had grown almost hostile, when rumours of Eloise's interactions with Guy had reached the outlaws' ears. But, during her recovery period he had been at her side, whenever Robin had to go tend to his duty as the leader of the outlaws. Throughout, their earliest interactions Eloise had tried to converse with the grim man, but had received only monosyllabic responses. She had felt that their early interactions had been strained and uncomfortable, but mostly on her part, because John did not perceive the same strain she had felt. She grew to realize, that John was also a very introspective man, who only spoke at select times, but whose verbal contributions were meaningful. After this recognition, Eloise had grown more comfortable, and during his visits they sat beside one another in companionable silence. She eventually broke their silence to ask him for the reason he had abandoned his earlier distrust of her. He at first did not answer her, and she had grown accepting that perhaps she would never find out the reason for this new kinship they had unconsciously formed. But then, his deep voice had broken the silence and he had told her that his wife lived at Locksley, the wife he had abandoned when he had been outlawed. And that he was thankful for her taking care of his wife and his friends, as the Shadow. Eloise had studied him, but knew that no verbal response was required to his confession. So, she simply chose to take his hand and sit beside him, contented silence once more engulfing them.

* * *

Over the past half week, she had started to contribute in the lives of the outlaws. Robin had at first been disapproving, but after lying two weeks in bed, Eloise was about ready to explode with need to do something, anything. So, she had started to help, mostly she helped Much with the cooking. When Robin had seen her exerting herself, he had grown angry and demanded that she return to rest. In response, she had tigerishly and obstinately stated that she would not become complacent and that if she were to lie, doing nothing for one more second, that she would surely die of boredom. They had argued, but Eloise's headstrong nature had prevailed in the end and Robin had grudgingly accepted her increased movement, while still admonishing her to be careful.

She had begun to enjoy the life as an outlaw. She permanently lived in the woods, which had always been her favourite place in the world. And she knew, that she would enjoy the ride outs and the ambushes, but Robin had never allowed her to confirm her suspicions, as he had stated that she was still too weak and that he would not relent on this matter. So, she had agreed. But, Eloise found herself thinking more and more of her old nurse Matilda and she had grown to miss her more intensely over the past couple of days. She wondered what her nurse would say, if she told her that she was practically an outlaw, fighting for Robin Hood's cause. Her nurse had always lovingly accused her of being too wild and fierce, and she had always worried over her. She knew that her nurse would be appalled at the lack of propriety, that was her collaborating with the outlaws. She missed her, and she missed Chester, which had been a home to her for the past eighteen years of her life. She did long to return, to see her nurse one last time. Especially, now when she was so in need of her nurse's motherly, nurturing spirit, due to the conflicts that plagued her. One morning, she had reached a decision. She had decided to ride back to Chester, back to her father's halls.

She was saddling Lark for the long ride to Chester from Sherwood Forest. Robin, as well as Sir Edward, had not been happy with her decision to undertake the long journey, especially, since she had just been restored to her former health. But, they had recognized the obstinate look on her face and had known that any arguing on their behalf would have been wasted. Still, Robin stood beside her, and he eyed her disapprovingly as she saddled Lark accordingly to the length of the journey. "Must you really go?" He asked her discontentedly. She simply looked at him and nodded her head yes, in confirmation. Not bothering to give him further answer, she turned back to her task, before she mounted Lark. She looked down at Robin, who was still fixing her with a cheerless expression that contrasted so greatly with the bright smile he usually carried. She smiled appeasing at him and leaned down to kiss his cheek in goodbye. She was about to depart, when she felt him take her hand and place a wooden something on her palm. He looked at her seriously and urged: "Come Back." She opened her still closed fist and saw that Robin had gifted her with one of the pendants, that the outlaws wore to signify their allegiance to their cause and King Richard. She felt affection rise up in her and she fixed him with a most tender smile, before putting the leather chain, which held the wooden carved token, around her neck lovingly. She once again bid him Goodbye before riding off in the direction of Chester.

* * *

She rode through the streets, that she had daily walked on during her childhood. Chester had not changed, she could still see the fields that used to belong to her father, which were now golden in colour as they were ripe with wheat. The air still smelled of mud and rain due to the predisposition of this area to precipitation, just as she had recalled. She could hear the cheerful voices and exclamations of the children, as they ran through the wide streets of the village in the direction of the forest, no doubt to pursue divertment. She observed as the women walked through the streets with their baskets and bassinets, sweat on their brows, due to the almost oppressive heat and the humidity of the air. She had seen the men, when she ridden past the fields, diligently working just as she remembered them. Not deterred by the heat, but working with cheer at the warm climate the summer brought. It was all so painfully familiar to Eloise. Chester had remained the same, and it was being flaunted in her face. It was mocking her, because it only served to prove to her how much she had changed, since taking residence with her uncle at Knighton. She had expected, that as she rode through Chester, she would have longed to return, just as she had longed to remain in these lands during her childhood. But now, she did not feel that compilation, she had expected throughout the whole of her journey. Now, she simply rode through Chester painfully numb, in search for her old nurse, whose comfort she now dearly required. She rode past the homes of the poor, which seemed so unstable to her, so breakable, while still keeping her eyes trained for the familiar buxom form of the woman, who had been her surrogate mother, when she had none.

Eventually, she found her kneeling down to tend to the flowers, which had sprouted in front of her childhood home. Yet, she felt only longing rise within her chest at the working woman beneath. Not at the form of the looming mansion, which had been her home for all of her infancy. No, she felt indifferent to the large estate, which was now inhabited by its new lord and surely the haunting presence of her father. With a soft voice, she addressed the working woman: "Hello dear nurse." At the sound of her voice, Matilda's head snapped up to see the girl, she had taken care of for the past eighteen years, dismounting her white stead. She regarded the child, she had cared for as if it was her own, standing before her, with a wide-eyed gaze. At her nurse's look of incredulity, Eloise let a bell-like peal of laughter and said amused: "I did not believe that anything in this world would have rendered you speechless. I seem to be the exception." Matilda seemed to catch herself, before giving an exclamation of delight and enthusiastically embracing the red-haired girl, while Eloise laughed with glee, the sound of her laughter seeming foreign to her own ears.

* * *

She was tenderly brushing Eloise's hair with nostalgia. She had done so every night, taking care of the beautiful red hair God had gifted her mistress. She had been so delighted at her return, had thanked God that she would see the girl, who was the closest thing she had to a daughter once more before her death. Eloise had informed her of the occurences in her life, since she had arrived in Locksley. She had told her of Sir Edward's kindness and Matilda had been glad that Eloise had found a fatherly figure to guide her in her life. She had told Matilda of her befriending of her maid, and the subsequent execution of the poor girl. She knew Eloise had loved her, judging by the distress she had heard in the girl's voice, as she told her about the girl's hanging. She had become more cheerful, however when she had told her of Robin Hood, the legendary outlaw, who stole from the rich and gave to the poor and had an idolisation toward King Richard, like Eloise. Her mistress seemed fond of the outlaw, however Matilda had been appalled and had admonished her that consorting with outlaws was a hanging offence. Eloise had only smiled knowingly at her reaction, which only served to incense Matilda further. Eloise had hushed her and told her, that she was now old enough to decide over her own life and that she was happy risking herself for her and Robin Hood's cause. Matilda had to roll her eyes exasperated at that. She knew that her former charge was idealistic to a fault, something she had inherited from both her parents, but she had also inherited the pigheadness of the former Lord over Chester and Matilda knew only too well from experience, that if her mistress had become resolved on a matter, she would not abandon it for the world. Matilda had in turn told her of the new Lord over Chester, who had been designated by the Sheriff of the area. She told Eloise, that he was a kind, young man, who treated his people fairly and did not abuse of them too extensively and that the villagers were enjoying good fortunes. At that Eloise smiled her serene smile and leaned her head back on Matilda's shoulder, simply absorbing her motherly presence.

Matilda enjoyed the comfortable and contented atmosphere that blanketed them. But, she could not shake the first image of Eloise, that she had taken at her arrival. She had smiled happily at Matilda, but the nurse knew her charge too well and knew the smile was counterfeit. This suspicion was only confirmed by the pained look in Eloise's eyes. She had once more seen that look, when Eloise had briefly mentioned a Sir Guy of Gisborne, who was the Sheriff of Nottingham's right-hand man and the Lord over Locksley. Matilda only then realized that Eloise had changed, previously being too absorbed in her happiness to see the red-haired girl again. She could not pinpoint exactly what it was, but Matilda felt Eloise exude an air that she had never before seen, an air of passion, but also an air of conflict and pain. "You have changed, my child." She stated contemplatively. Eloise smiled at her, not opening her eyes: "You were always perceptive, beloved nurse. Always managing to perceive novelty in others, even if they themselves had not seen it yet. I see that has not changed." Matilda simply shook her head at her former charge and took her face in her pudgy hands and, while looking deeply into her blue eyes, stated: "Do not jest, Eloise. I am serious. You are not the same girl, that left me months ago. You have changed. You have grown up and I am most assured that the Lord over Locksley, you briefly mentioned, is the cause of the change." At the mention of the man's name, pain and something else flashed in Eloise's eyes. Something that resembled affection, something that revealed to Matilda the cause of the change in Eloise. Something that confirmed all of her suspicions. "You have fallen in love with him. Yet that feeling causes you pain. Why?" And with that prompt, Eloise told her nurse of the interactions between her and the Lord Gisborne. She told her of time they spent together. How she had told him the story of the wolf, who had been Eloise's best friend and whose loss, she had never quite gotten over. She told her of the way he would regard her at times. But she also told her, that he was corrupt and depraved, did not care for others and that his cruelty toward his own people knew no bounds. That they fought for different things, that there was enmity between them, due to their differing goals. She told her of his betrayal and his attempted murder of King Richard. She told Matilda of her inability to hate him and the guilt her feelings caused her. Eloise told her, that she had beseeched him to prevent her maid's execution and that he had done nothing. Matilda shook her head at that, this was so typical of Eloise. Matilda told her, that he could have done nothing to prevent the execution of the girl, who had broken the law by consorting with outlaws. That any of his efforts would have been in vain. Eloise looked contemplative at that, but then agony contorted her features and she stated in a broken voice, that this was not the only reason for the conflicts, which her feelings caused her. She feared for his impartiality toward her, feared that he was unable to truly love her, due to his depravity. "So you see, nurse. It seems, as if I am bound to bestow my heart on men, who shall never spare anything, but indifference for me." Matilda smiled consolingly at her and stated in a motherly voice: "Do you not remember the lesson you learned as a child. Do you not remember the moral, which you always kept close to your heart. That every creature was able to love, even if their depravity was boundless." Eloise had seemed shocked, that she had forgotten, what she had so dearly believed in during her infancy. She said no more that evening, simply choosing to lean her head on her nurse's shoulder. Finding comfort in the motherly air she exuded.

They had spent the last few days together, but Matilda could sense her former charge's disquiet. Could sense her longing to return back to Nottinghamshire, to return back to him. So, it came as no surprise, when that morning Eloise had announced that she would depart later in the day. Sadness, gripped Matilda as she watched Eloise saddling her white horse. Before she mounted, Eloise embraced Matilda and the embrace had such a finality, for both women knew that they would not see each other again, in this life. So, Eloise clung onto her, with the same need and desperation she had embraced Matilda during her infancy. Matilda did not want her to leave, but she knew Eloise had to. Perhaps, if her former charge had never gone to Knighton, she would have been able to keep her for the remainder of her days. But now her destiny was inadvertently combined with the destiny of Sir Guy of Gisborne and she knew it would cause them both pain, if she beseeched Eloise to stay. She knew that the red-haired girl loved her enough to do so, to spare her of her pain, even if it meant wallowing in misery herself. But, she loved Eloise too much to keep her here. To keep her from him. So with tears flowing down her cheeks, she caged the fair face of the girl, she loved like a daughter and said: "Remember what I told you. Do not turn from him. Not when you are already irrevocably in love with him." She kissed Eloise's forehead lovingly, one last time, before releasing her, so that she could mount Lark. Matilda kept glancing after the retreating from of the girl, even after she could see her no longer, a feeling of dread taking seat in her gut. Because, as Eloise rode away, Matilda had spied a dark shadow falling upon her charge's form, one that hinted at the hardships the girl would have yet to endure. She refrained from calling out to Eloise, blaming her aging eyes for the illusion. She simply kept glancing at the direction, Eloise had ridden toward, not being able but to feel that she had sealed her charge's fate, by letting her go.


	22. To Be Wrong

Chapter 22

_"I have been wrong about you. Thought I was strong without you"- My Confession, Josh Groban_

Eloise was sitting in front of the lit fireplace in her chambers at Knighton Hall. At her uncle's insistence, she was once more attempting embroidery, but falling miserably at it. After having hurt her index finger for the twentieth time, she sat down the cloth on her lap and suspired. She had been back from Chester for three days now and due to the emotional and physical exhaustion she had attained during the long journey, she had spent the past days in her uncle's halls and had used the time to rest. Her eyes had grown weary from the focus she had put on the craft, and her hand ached. She could not help, but find the task she was engaging in incredibly boring and tedious. But, it reminded her of her mother. Her earliest memories were of her observing her beatific mother, sitting on her chaise doing embroidery. An air of serenity and a beatific aura surrounding the woman like a glowing halo. She had always thought her mother to be the most beautiful of women with her long, blonde hair and her forest green eyes. She had always hoped that she would grow to look like her mother, would grow to possess a similar warm beauty, but she had inherited her father's bearance. His fiery red hair and his icy blue eyes. She had always longed to be like her mother. The warm, kind woman, who everyone could not help but love and adore, due to her altruism. Returning to Chester had caused that old longing she always felt at her mother's memory to come back and Eloise wished to return back to the days of her childhood, where she would sit on her mother's lap, while the woman relayed her tales of love, while passing her hand through Eloise's hair in a soothing gesture. At the thought of the old stories, Eloise had to snort softly and unamusedly. The love her mother had always told her about, and had made her long for was so different from what she felt now, that she could only conclude that her mother had cruelly deluded her. The love Lady Anne of Chester had always told her about was a pure love, a love more all-consuming than God's. While Eloise's emotions were profound, her affections brought her no joy. Lady Anne had always told her that love was the greatest kind that could be bestowed on one, but Eloise felt more that her love was a curse. Her bane, her pain. She exhaled softly and closed her eyes, before shifting her attention back to her craft, attempting to rid her mind of these thoughts.

Her attention was diverted again, when she heard pounding footsteps approaching the chamber. They sounded masculine and purposeful, but her uncle had gone out today to deal with business at Nottingham. He had told her he would not return until late and that she was not to wait for him to dine. It was still early afternoon, perhaps her uncle had been able to deal with matters at Nottingham more quickly than expected. So, she rose from her chair to greet him, but it was not Sir Edward that entered her chambers. Stood before her was Sir Guy of Gisborne, wearing his usual attire made of black leather and looking the same, as the last time she saw him. Yet, he seemed different to her. Something in her perception of him had irrevocably changed and she assumed the cause of this novelty was her recognition of her feelings. She had not seen him for such a long time that he seemed foreign to her, yet all the same painfully familiar, and she thought that even if she had not seen him for years and years on end, that she would look at him and still feel that same familiarity, with which she gazed upon him now. She studied him with reverent eyes taking in every detail, assuring herself that he had not changed. Her eyes lingered for an extended amount of time on his grey blue eyes that she had previously thought so cold, so cruel, but then after closer inspection and the discovery of airy blue, concealed in his orbs, had become so much more humane to her. He was gazing upon her with an unreadable look in his eyes, an emotion swirling in his blue eyes that she did not know how to interpret, but that caused the longing that was burning in her chest only to intensify and she was sure that he could read all her emotions in her eyes, that everything she felt about him had leaked through and that she was gazing at him longingly, vulnerably. Then she became painfully aware of the pendant, that she had tied around her wrist, which if discovered would reveal her secrets and would no doubt ensure her a trip to the gallows. She hoped that the long sleeve of her dress was concealing the wooden artefact, that she had not taken off, for she had grown fond of it. Treasured its meaning, for it was a visual proof of her allegiance to England, justice and King Richard. Self-consciously, she put her arm behind her back, to conceal the fashioned bracelet. The slight movement seemed to snap Sir Guy out of his almost hypnotized reverie, and Eloise became aware that they had been studying each other, unmovingly, since he had come in. "Eloise." He said in his deep voice, that only now she realized, she had missed. "I see that you have recovered from your illness and seem to be enjoying better health." Eloise nodded her head and stated softly, almost whisperingly: "Yes, thank you Sir Guy. My uncle informed me that you called, while I was resting. I appreciate your coming." She smiled at him tenderly and as he looked upon her, his usual steely gaze having softened once his eyes had been laid on her figure, she knew she had forgiven him. Knew she had grown tired of being angry at him. Her conversation with Matilda came to mind. Her nurse had made her see, that Guy would have been unable to do anything for Isabella. Had rationalized his behaviour and she had known that. Had been aware of Sir Guy's reasons, subconsciously. But, she had been so deranged by grief and guilt, that she had tried to find in him a culprit of what had occurred. Had wanted to blame him, but she knew she could do so no longer. And as she let go of her anger toward the leather-clad man before her, an airy feeling of pure unconstrained joy filled her. A feeling of relief that only acceptance and surrender could cause, and which caused her to smile such a bright, genuine smile, which Guy started at.

With hesitant steps, she approached Sir Guy of Gisborne, before she was stood before him and he was looking at her with caution and confusion colouring his eyes. Confusion at her warm, affectionate behaviour toward him, after she had spent the last month treating him with cold, cruel indifference. She laid her left hand on his shoulders and smiled up at him affectionately. They had been closer, more intimate, but each time it had been him, who had started it in an intoxicated state. She did not possess the courage to initiate anymore intimate contact, for fear of sober rejection. She chose to look up at him with shining blue eyes and said with honesty colouring her words: "It is good to see you again. I have missed you." At that Sir Guy's face fall and his lips parted slightly, as he gazed upon her, his eyes flickering across her face, searching any sign that suggested dishonesty, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, as he inhaled shakily. He continued to study her face, but she simply kept looking at him and he did not seem able to find whatever he was searching for her in face, because then he said under his breath: "As I have you." His eyes were lidded heavily, as his gaze absorbed her every feature.

They were interrupted by the entry of Wheaton, her uncle's man-servant, stepping into Eloise's chamber. Abashed, she took her hand off Guy's shoulders, moving away, and realised that they had been standing entirely too close together, moving unconsciously closer and that Wheaton had caught them in a position, that would no doubt be the topic of the servant's gossip for the next few days. "My lady." Wheaton bowed and addressed the slightly flustered Eloise. "My Lady, I was wondering when you would like to take your lunch" Eloise having retained a composed state, smiled kindly at the servant although tersely for she was irritated by his interruption. "Please ask them to lay out lunch now, Wheaton. Sir Guy, will you be staying for lunch?" She addressed the annoyed dark-haired man. "I fear I have to return to Nottingham, though I thank you for your offer." Guy stated politely and bowed his head in courtesy. Disappointment coursed through her veins and she looked no doubt crestfallen, but nodded cordially at him all the same. Sir Guy bid her goodbye and left, leaving her in her chambers with Wheaton, her looking after him, before descending to take her midday meal, alone.

* * *

**A nice, fluffy chapter for y'all. Thanks to my two awesome reviewers lexie2 and UKReader. Again I really appreciate the views, but I would love if more people dropped me a review, to let me know what they think of the story. I really liked this chapter and I hope you do as well. The two of them are adorable together, but for some reason I am afraid it won't last.**

**lexie2- thank you reviewing. I am glad that the story is not deteriorating with each chapter and I have managed to keep you interested. About Guy's reaction to the pendant and the kid... we shall see :D**

**UKReader- than you for the review. Yes, I was seriously screaming at Eloise 'finally the coin dropped'. keep in mind that the fact that she has fallen in love with guy doesn't mean she's necessarily too happy about it. As I said in the prologue, the story will be tragic. I hope that doesn't put you off the story :D. She loves the tag that Robin gave her, because she does fight for England and King Richard and in the next few chapters I shall dive more into her allegiance to the outlaws and how that impacts her and Guy's relationship. **


	23. Hard Sacrifice

Chapter 23

_"Nobody said it was easy. It's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. Oh take me back to the start."- The Scientist, Coldplay_

He held the newborn infant in his arm, who was protected from the weather and cocooned in warmth by the rough cloth it was bundled in. Him and his men had found the child in the forest, visibly abandoned by the parents, who judging by the babe's coldness had been long gone. All of the outlaws had been startled, when they had heard the cry of a hungry and solitary infant, a noise that you would usually not find within Sherwood Forest. His man had all been awkward handling the screaming infant, who had only calmed down after Robin had taken it and hushed it. Fighting the guards had been infinitely more challenging with the sleeping infant in his arms, but Robin, who was fool-hardy by nature, had welcomed the challenge. They had been able to fend off the guards, but unfortunately Royston had been captured after he had pushed Robin out-of-the-way from the mace, which Gisborne had thrown in his direction. Robin had to admit that he had been impressed with the ploy the Sheriff's right hand man had employed against him, he had defied the low expectations Robin had of him, by marking the hooves of the horses, the outlaws had stolen and thus being able to track them in the hopes of capturing them. Gisborne had proven to Robin that perhaps he was not as dim-witted, as he had previously thought and that perhaps Robin should not underestimate him. He knew the man was ruthless and would do anything to achieve his goals and get what he wanted. And it was obvious, that Gisborne thirsted for Robin's blood. Since they had been children they had despised each other. Always had there been an enmity between them; as children it had been harmless, two boy trying to prove their superiority, but his tryst with Gisborne now, in adulthood, could most certainly not be described as harmless.

He shook his mind free of the thoughts concerning Gisborne and their continual rivalry and returned his mind to the current situation. After a timely escape from Nottingham, which seemed almost miraculous in its nature, his friend Royston now rode beside him, one of the most courageous and bold outlaws there was. He was also one of the more aggressive and bullying, two characteristics, that made him a strong fighter for their cause and was no doubt the reason why he had been the defacto leader of the band, before Robin's arrival. However his boisterous and often crude behaviour did not make him popular with Much, who was often offended by the blonde man's taunting of him.

A surge of pain spread across Robin's right shoulder and he had to grit his teeth. While he had been shooting food pierced with arrows to the quarantined villagers at Clun Village, he had been shot with an arrow from one of the guards of Nottingham. It had caught him by surprise and the wound it had inflicted was not the worse Robin had ever obtained, but it was worsened by the weight of the baby he had to nurturely carry. During his stay in the dungeons of Nottingham Castle, Roy had found out that the mother of the child lived in Knighton. This had prompted Robin to ride toward the lands of his friend. He knew it was not advisable to put Sir Edward and Eloise in this situation. To have others see him enter and frequent their home in broad daylight, but he needed to return the child to its mother. He had already put the infant in enough danger during his confrontations with the guard and it had been a miracle that the child had still not been injured. But, he would not risk the life of the boy anymore than he had to. No, he knew now who the boy belonged to and would return him to his mother, who was no doubt missing him. He would give the child to Eloise, she being so caring of her uncle's people, would no doubt know who the mother was, and he relied on her to nurture the child until it was back in its mother's arms. Perhaps, he would also use the opportunity to have Eloise look at his flesh wound. She was skilled in tending to the sick, similarly to Djaq, and Robin had to smile tenderly and anticipatingly at the tender care the girl would no doubt offer him. He was looking forward to seeing her, it had been a long time, since he had last seen her. Not since her return from Chester. Yet, he loathed putting her in this situation. He feared that Gisborne had stationed guards at Knighton to observe Eloise. He knew that Gisborne had his eyes on Eloise, but also knew that the affections of the man could mean nothing good for his friend. The leather-clad knight no doubt only saw Eloise as another tool to his ascent to power. She was, after all, Sir Edward's heiress. The leather-clad bigot no doubt hoped to attain Knighton through Eloise, but Robin would be damned if he allowed this to happen. He would not allow Eloise to perish under Gisborne's cruelty and depravity. He would fight until his last breath, so that Gisborne would not get the red-haired sprite, Robin wanted so dearly to himself. The man would destroy Eloise's spirits in a matter of months. No, Gisborne was already destined for the gallows after King Richard's return. A fate he had sealed by committing treason. And as soon as Robin was pardoned, he and Eloise would be together and any thought of Vasey and Gisborne would be soon forgotten.

He saw her tending to the flowers, that dotted the grassy expanse in front of Knighton Hall. He rode up to her and stopped his horse beside her, effectively bathing her in shade. Eloise looked up confused at the obstruction of the sun to see Robin smiling down at her with his usual cocky, cheerful grin. She smiled tentatively back at him and at Royston, the latter no doubt responsible for her wariness. Eloise did not appreciate the bullying character of the outlaw and thought his behaviour toward Much ignominious. He also thought that perhaps her reluctance toward them, sprung out of her fear of being seen consorting with outlaws during the day. She glanced conspicuously at her surroundings, no doubt in search of any malicious observer. But after seeing that no apparent threat was in sight, she gifted him with an affectionate smile that Robin had grown to miss during her absence. She let her eyes roam over him, but when her gaze fell upon the bundle on his arms, confusion flashed through her eyes. At having recognized what the form in his arms was, her eyes widened and she hissed, alarm coating her voice: "Is that a baby?" "I am in need of your help, Eloise." She looked apprehensive, but still she ushered both him, Royston as well as the baby into Knighton, glancing behind her to see if anyone had seen her collaboration with them, before closing the door behind her.

* * *

Eloise was holding a needle in her delicate hands and was engrossed in preparing the things she would need to tend to Robin's wounds. They were currently in her chambers, she had laid the child on her bed, on which's edge the two of them were sat upon. She had two clay bowls on her left side, while Robin sat to her right. "Now this is a dull needle. It shall hurt, but in such short notice I can do no better, I fear." "Are you skilled at this?" Robin asked her, slight fear creeping into his voice. "If my embroidery skills are anything to go by... no!" At seeing his frightened expression, she smiled and appeased him "Robin, I have done this before. You needn't fear. Take of your shirt." Robin obliged and felt cocky pride fill him, when he saw Eloise's eyes linger on his exposed torso, though her expression remained infuriatingly neutral. She began to sew shut his wounds. He had to grit his teeth at the sharp pain the needle caused, but he did not wish for Eloise to see his pain and find him weak. It seemed, however, that she could still sense the ache the stitching was causing him and in an attempt to distract him, she asked: "How came you by the child? Is he yours?" Robin told her of the ambush with Gisborne and how they had found the child. When he told her of his assumptions that the mother lived at Knighton, she stopped mid-stitch and looked at him in confusion, her brows furrowed: "The child is but a month old. None of the women at Knighton have been with child, since my arrival. I fear you have gotten false information, my friend." Robin looked puzzled at that. Had Royston gotten his stories mixed up? He had seemed so certain, when telling Robin of the child's background. This also meant that the child was still parentless, and that grieved Robin as he remembered his own orphancy. How his mother and then his father had left him alone in the world at a too young age.

Eloise had finished the stitching and was carefully bandaging his arms. A female servant came in, carrying a jug with milk and a tray of bread and set it down Eloise's dressers. "Milk and bread for the baby, mistress." Eloise smiled at the servant and thanked her before dismissing her. Robin spied a leather thread around Eloise's right wrist, as well as a flash of wood. He smiled, as he gathered what it was. He tenderly took her right wrist and held it up, before moving her sleeve back, thus revealing the pendant that was a symbol of allegiance to the outlaws and their cause. "You are wearing it", he breathed, affection running through him as he realized the extent of her devotion to him. She simply smiled mischievously, before extracting her wrist from his hold and once more taking up her task. After being satisfied with the bandage, Eloise stood and went to wash her hands of Robin's blood. Robin put his shirt back on carefully, minding his recently healed wounds. He then went downstairs to inform Royston of their anon departure.

He entered the room again and paused in the doorway to study the scene that was before him. Eloise was holding the newborn in her arms and carefully cradling him, a beatific, motherly smile lighting up her features. Robin felt a surge of affection and longing course through him at the image of the girl he cared for holding a new-born infant in her arms, lovingly gazing down upon it and tending contentedly to it. She had heard his arrival, because she broke him out of his content reverie with a soft whisper: "He is beautiful." Robin smiled indulgingly at the girl and approached her. She looked up at him, when he was standing beside her, affection for the babe still shining in her blue orbs. "I heard women get attached to infants quickly, but I always figured that pertained to their own offspring." She looked down at the little boy with undiluted adoration and stated: "I can't explain it. I simply looked at the child and I knew I adored him. What is his name?" "Seth" Robin answered her with a small smile playing at his lips, as he saw her cradle the baby. "A good name. Strong. His mother no doubt chose it lovingly, and is awaiting his return most anxiously." With that she handed the bundle to Robin, slight sadness passing through her eyes. "You need to leave now, Robin, before you are found here." He nodded at her and bid her Goodbye, before getting Royston and making his swift escape from Knighton.

* * *

As the Shadow glanced up at the sky, which was brightening as the early lights of dawn set out to colour it, the figure knew it had been too long. This was the first night after several weeks, that the Shadow had once again made its rounds through the villages of Nottinghamshire, ending its bout at the stone encircled settlement. It was normally able to distribute its fare to all the villagers, as well as the citizens of Nottingham before light broke, moving agilely and undetected in the night. But, tonight it had been more sluggish, had forgotten the pace it was required to move at, since the night, its most loyal companion, could only offer it protection for a limited amount of time. The Shadow, after an almost month-long sabbatical, had forgotten the routine of its nightly raid and was now paying the prize for it, since the shadows of the night had now retreated, and the early lights of dawn strived to expose it to the watchful eyes of Vasey's inferiors. It had been moving along the walls of the castle, trying to find coverage in the shade the ominous stone walls provided, but it was approaching the courtyard, where it would be no doubt painfully visible to all, who were awake at these early hours. The shape of the gallows were visible in the distance and seemed to mock the figure, as the silhouette grew closer and more defined.

The Shadow was so intent to make no noise, to escape unharmed that it was completely engrossed in its movements, carefully considering each one. So, it got an immense fright when the silence of the morning was broken by a loud commotion of several voices, which hinted at a struggle. The figure quickly ascended the stairs that were close by and sought concealment in the corridor they led to. The figure crouched behind the stone wall, but then curiosity got the better of it and it peeked over the wall at the scene opposite to it. The figure had to roll her eyes at the image, which met it. Robin Hood and his outlaws had been captured by Sheriff Vasey and were being led to the courtyard. Once more, Robin Hood's flaunting had gotten him in trouble and the figure huffed exasperated, at the trouble the outlaw always seemed to find due to his cocky display of his defiance to the Sheriff. What disconcerted the figure was the elderly woman, who was standing in the gallows, the hooded executioner in black putting the noose around her neck. The Shadow started to grow agitated, it wanted to help Robin Hood as well as prevent the woman from hanging, but currently all the outlaws were being held back by the guards and the figure would no doubt be alone to fight the guards. The Sheriff and his right hand man stood on the upper step leading to the main entrance of Nottingham Castle, the former with a victorious, sadistic smirk on his face, while the latter looked on solemnly, grimly. The Shadow thought desperately what it could do to turn the situation in the favour of the outlaws, without compromising itself and ensuring its capture. The Shadow was certain, that it would not survive Gisborne a second time.

Vasey was about to give the executioner the orders to pull the levers, when the hysteric cry of a woman broke the anticipating tension in the air: "MURDERER!" At her outcry, everyone started and turned back to see a young woman, dressed in servant's attire with dark blond wavy hair, holding a kitchen knife at the leather-clad man's throat, the threatened seemed to be struggling and slightly apprehensive. The Shadow started forward instinctively, but finally held itself back, and looked at the unlikely scene in confusion, similarly to everyone who was present in the courtyard. "DO NOT MOVE! You said he would be safe. But you left him in the forest. You left him to die. OUR SON! OUR BABY!" The woman continued to hysterically scream in Gisborne's ear. And that is when everything made sense to the Shadow, the new-born infant that Robin Hood had found abandoned in the woods was the servant's child, fathered by Gisborne, who had abandoned the child in the forest. Behind its mask, the Shadow's jaw dropped and its features contorted in agony, as the revelation of Gisborne's cruelty hit it full force, knocking the breath out of its lungs. Then anger packed the Shadow and through its aggressive rage, it saw that Gisborne had knocked back the girl, which had prompted all the outlaws to attack, making use of the Sheriff's distraction.

The Shadow moved out of its hiding place toward the leather-clad man and the kitchen servant, who were lying on the floor. Gisborne was above her and was busy punishing her for the humiliation she had caused him. He was striking her, no doubt wanting to kill her, but the Shadow would not allow it. It ran up the stairs and pulled the heavy leather-clad man off the helpless girl. It kicked Gisborne in the face with its booted foot, thus incapacitating the man. It extended its hand and helped the kitchen maid up before descending,the girl in tow, the stairs to join the other outlaws, who were in the process of retreating, after having rescued the elderly woman from the gallows.

But Robin Hood went no further, when he saw that Royston had been captured by the Sheriff, gazing murderously at the latter who was currently holding a knife to the blonde outlaw's throat. Robin drew back an arrow and demanded the Sheriff to release him, lest Vasey die today. The Shadow could see that Hood was about to give himself up once more in favour of his friend. Much and Roy could detect the same intent in Robin and tried to stop him. The next few seconds were a blur to the Shadow, the emotional intensity of the situation causing it to no doubt forget detail, even though it would curse itself for this obliviousness later on. Curse that its shock and grief overwhelmed it, thus dishonouring the memory of Royston, who in his last moments became one of the most honourable, courageous and admirable men to the Shadow. Roy had thrown back his head and thus injured the Sheriff causing him to let go of Roy. He screamed at the assembled outlaws to leave, while he sacrificed his life for the baby and the elderly woman, who the Shadow now knew was his mother. He was cornered by the guards in front of the heavy wooden door of the castle and they proceeded to cut him down, while he unrelentingly screamed out his loyalty to Robin Hood and King Richard. "My name is Royston White. I fight for Robin Hood and King Richard." were his last words that he did not cease to repeat until his last breath left him, and which would ring in the Shadow's ears for hours.

The Shadow simply looked on in shock and respect, its grief for the man, who it had disregarded in life due to his brutish behaviour, paralyzing it. It was prompted to move when Allan ran past it and took it by its shoulders, encouraging it to retreat. They had escaped Nottingham, but had lost something so precious, that silent desolation accompanied them in their escape. The Shadow looked over at Robin Hood, who was sporting a distressed expression on his face. Sensing the figure's gaze, Robin looked over and his gaze told him, what he wished the Shadow to do now. With a barely imperceptible nod, the Shadow separated itself from the company and moved toward its horse to ride to Knighton.

* * *

Eloise sat in front of her looking-glass, brushing her hair with a despondent look on her face. After her escape from Nottingham, she had arranged transportation for Annie, the kitchen servant and her baby, that would take them to Chester. No doubt her dear Nurse Matilda would be able to get the girl an occupation at Chester Manor. She only hoped that the Lord over Chester was as agreeable, as Matilda had painted him out to be, during her visit. The girl had already suffered enough and she only hoped that Annie's life from now on would be easier. For the sake of both her and her son. Eloise's sympathy for the girl had only risen when she had seen the crushed look on her face, no doubt caused by her discovery of Guy's depravity. She had been so thankful to Eloise, but Eloise had been short to the servant and had cut her off, not being able to endure the girl's gratefulness and not being able to simply look at her. Because as she looked at Annie, she saw herself. Saw someone, who due to their affections was so painfully blind to the malevolent spirit of Sir Guy of Gisborne. Both had assumed that there was another side to him. Had assumed that he was kinder and that his behaviour simply sprung from the hardships he had to endure. Both of them had been blinded to the fact that any virtue they saw in Guy of Gisborne was imaginary. Both had tried to forget the fact that the man was a monster. Pain once again filled Eloise and she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath to urge down the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She would cry no tears for that man. She would shed not a tear for him. Not when, today one of the most courageous men had died. Not when today a man filled with integrity had been brutally cut down like a rabid animal. She would not cry for Guy, not when today their cause had lost such a valuable member. She had forgiven Guy for Isabella, but this she would not condone. He had left his son, his own flesh and blood to die in the forest. To be found and abused by anything that came by it, simply because the child was inconvenient to him. This she would never forget.

She had felt so much pain for the boy, whose father simply found him a nuisance, whose father might as well have killed him. It would have no doubt been more merciful, than allowing the child to slowly die of starvation in the forest. Completely helpless, a creature who had no sin, who was pure, left to such a cruel fate. She had felt responsible for the boy's fate and wanted to ensure his well-being. She hoped Matilda would care for him, just as she had cared for Eloise. Before riding back to Knighton, after seeing Annie off, she had looked to Robin and he had regarded her with a facial expression that had promised his visit later tonight. As if reading, her thoughts she saw in her looking-glass the reflection of him entering through her window. She laid down her brush and turned to him a sad, understanding smile on her lips. He simply looked at her, like he did not know what to do. She decided to initiate their contact: "He was a good man. A man filled with integrity, whose courage rivals King Richard's. I never appreciated him in life, but I will forever treasure his sacrifice to our cause. We all will." At that Robin closed his eyes in pain and sat down on her bed. She sat beside him, and slung her arms around him, silently offering him consolation, as he grieved his friend's sacrifice.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad you liked the fluff and I feel really bad adbout publishing this chapter. Please bear with me! This is a massive update, because I felt that it was necessary for you to read the next three chapters together. I know some people will be really annoyed, but I remember watching the show and thinking that the story arc with Guy's son was so big, so character-defining and the scene with Roy where he dies was so touching and moving and dramatic and I couldn't not have it. God I really hope you guys don't start hating my story and Eloise, but I did warn everyone that it was going to be a bumpy ride.**


	24. Of letting go and runaways

Chapter 24

_"So if you love me let me go and run away before I know. My heart is just too tired to care. I can't destroy what isn't there"- Snuff, Slipknot _

"I have something for you." he stated in a soft voice, as he handed a black, silk pouch to the woman in front of him. She eyed him with a neutral look on her face, hesitating a few moments, before taking the present from his outstretched hands. He had come to call on Eloise, but he knew that he had to leave soon. As he was about to ride out to Knighton earlier, he had come upon the Abbess of Rutherford, who had collapsed in front of him on the wooden bridge leading into Nottingham Town. The woman had been greatly distressed and had, under arduous exertion, informed him that she had been attacked by outlaws during her pilgrimage through Sherwood Forest. Hood's true colours had come to the surface. To attack a bride of Christ, people who served their God was a despicable thing to do, and it had just managed to prove that Hood was not as saintly, as he would like to portray. That Hood was just as ruthless, as any man out there and that any reverence placed on the outlaw was sorely displaced. He had made sure that the Abbess was being tended to by the castle's physician, but seeing that he could do no more, he had taken up his earlier plans for today. He had come to call on Eloise, and give her what he had purchased for her a few days back. He remembered how she had acted toward him the last time he had come to call, when he had seen her again for the first time after several weeks. He had thought about her during the time of her absence, but the image his mind had painted of her had seemed to pale in comparison when he lay eyes on her after weeks on end being denied her presence. She was lovelier than he had recalled and he had been shocked to find that she was more comely than his mind had painted her to be. He had missed her and when he had gotten the confirmation that she had missed him with the same intensity, he had been content. He had been content, as she gazed up at him the same way she had looked at him during their earliest interactions. He knew at that moment that she had forgiven him and for that he was thankful.

So, he had been excited to come and call on her. Expectant of her warmth toward him. Yet, when he had arrived she had looked at him and her gaze had been devoid of any kindness. Her handling of him was cordial and polite, but unnecessarily formal; their behaviour toward each other assuredly warranted much more familiarity, but she remained infuriatingly polite, treating him the same way she would any guest. She looked at the gift he had given her with a blank look, that endearing glint of excitement not passing through her blue orbs, as she gazed upon the pouch. She looked rather despondent, as she opened the sack and took out the silver bracelet he had been sure that she would appreciate. But she simply looked at the piece of jewellery with a vacant look on her eyes before addressing him: "You give me too many gifts Sir Guy." He started at that, he had been so sure that she would have liked it, but she sounded unaffected, even disappointed as she lay down the piece of jewellery on the table beside her, as if she could no longer bear to touch it. "Are you well Eloise? You seem to be in low spirits." She gazed at him with an unreadable look, which turned to determination and as she spoke she stood up and moved toward the window on the east wall of her uncle's estate: "I confess I find myself... disturbed. I have received news from my nurse in Chester. She told me that a woman arrived, seeking refuge with her newborn son. My nurse Matilda is a very altruistic person, kind and motherly to a fault. So, when she heard the story of how to the woman found the need to flee from her home, she could not refuse her any help. Apparently the woman was a castle servant, who had become involved with one of the lords in the county. He in turn fathered the son she now finds herself with. He had told her that he would send their son to an abbey, pay for his accommodation and safety there. But he had deceived her, because he abandoned the child in the forest. Indifferent to its fate. Can you imagine a man who does this?" Dread packed Guy at this tale. Annie had left with the outlaws, and Robin Hood had probably ensured her a place to stay far away from Nottingham, but it was too great a coincidence that she would end up in Eloise's old home town, working for the woman, who had raised her. Seeing that Eloise was regarding him with a neutral glance, he schooled his features in an impassive expression and said in an unaffected voice: "Yes, it is most certainly a heinous crime." Her lips twitched up slightly, before her lips formed a wide smile, which caused Guy a few seconds of relief. It was probably another woman with a different tale, or perhaps if it was Annie, she had not revealed the identity of the father. He was broken out of his thoughts by a bell-like laugh. Eloise was laughing indulgingly, almost uncontrollably and her body shook with mirth. Guy was puzzled at her humour, he had not said anything amusing and he wondered what had caused her laughter. Once Eloise had managed to calm herself, she stated an amused smile still on her face: "You must truly think me the biggest fool alive, Sir Guy." He looked at her confused how she had come to this assumption. He looked down before stating with a confused smile: "I assure you I think no such thing." "Well you must, to lie to me with such blatancy." His head snapped up at that and he saw that Eloise was regarding him with a dark look, any trace of mirth gone. "Did you truly think that I would be exempted from hearing the gossip that has spread like wildfire through Nottinghamshire? Did you truly think that while everyone knew that you abandoned the son you fathered with the kitchen servant, I would remain blissfully oblivious? You must really think me a fool, but I no longer care for your opinion of me. Take your present, give it to another lady at court, who will appreciate your attentions much more than I ever would have, and take your leave of Knighton." With that she turned her back to him. Panic and indignation seized Guy. He would not go and leave at her demands. He took long strides and approached Eloise. "If you would allow me to explain." She whirled around and said agitatedly: "Then explain. Make me understand what would possess you to abandon an innocent child in the forest. Explain to me why you would abandon your own flesh and blood, abandon him completely to his fate, indifferent to what would become of him. Make me understand!" At this he found himself speechless, because how would he explain to her his reasoning. Surely, she would not understand that the bastard child had been an inconvenient hindrance to him, in his pursuit of power, in his pursuit of her. He simply looked down and stated: "I had my reasons. You would not understand them."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the otherwise silent room. A short sound that immediately gave way to incredulous silence. Guy's face had been turned to the side by the force of the blow. He could feel his cheek stinging from where Eloise had slapped him. No woman had ever struck him, no one had ever dared to, only this girl who came back into his line of sight after he almost languidly, predatorialy turned his head and shifted his gaze toward her. Her eyes were wide in disbelief at what she had done, but then her features rearranged themselves in a prideful look, that suggested that she did not resent her actions. And she probably didn't. Guy grew angry, indignation filling his chest. He was sure his gaze was murderous, and his nostrils were flaring. He was tired of her wilfulness, he was tired that he had to pursue her at every turn, he was tired of always hoping that they had made progress, only for her to show that she still could not stand the sight of him. Murderous rage stormed inside him like a released beast. He grabbed her by her shoulders and hissed: "How dare you strike me, you insolent girl." Her eyes had grown wide in fear of his reaction, in fear of him. Her obvious trepidation of him only served to further fuel his anger. He shook her by her shoulders once more questioning her how she had dared to strike him. She had averted her gaze to the ground, avoiding to look at him. At this moment he hated her and her obvious distaste of him. He cursed her, that she had caused him to care for her, while she treated him only with indifference and contempt. Repulsed, he pushed her away and stormed out of Knighton, leaving her behind.

* * *

A furious Guy of Gisborne stormed past him, before he angrily mounted his horse and rode away to Nottingham. Sir Edward had seen the murderous look on the face of the dark-haired man and it immediately caused the Lord of Knighton to worry for his niece's wellbeing. He hurried to his halls and entered to see Eloise with her back to him, slumped over, supporting herself on the table, her petite slender form heaving with breath, as she seemed to try to calm herself. "Eloise" Sir Edward called out, as he approached her. Like a startled animal, she stiffened before snapping her head back to look at his form. Before she schooled her features in an impassive look, he saw hurt and anger coursing through her eyes, and he questioned her: "Sir Guy left quite angrily. What did you do?" His niece looked down to the side with an acerbic look on her face. She turned around and leaned her back on the table before stating with a sarcastic voice: "I told him I would marry him and have his children." Sir Edward was agitated at the dark man's anger when leaving his home and was in no patience for his niece's willful humour. So he looked at her with an unforgiving look and stated: "You could do worse." Especially, considering her partiality to Sir Guy. He remembered how hurt she was when she had told him of how Sir Guy had abandoned his offspring in the forest, her compassion unable to condone an act of such cruelty, but he knew that whatever she did she would never be able to be indifferent to Sir Guy. He had seen her struggle with it after Isabella's execution and he was currently seeing the same exertion, that seemed to constantly plague her the last couple of days. She sighed before smiling a bitter grin: "Perhaps if I married the Sheriff. But if he had abandoned his children in the forest, we would surely know of it by now. So, I am still undecided on this matter." She pushed herself off the table and moved toward the western facing window.

"Eloise, my child, be reasonable. You are of marrying age, all the maidens who are as old as you have been married now for at least one summer. A life as the mistress of Locksley would surely not be too bad. It is better than the current life you have chosen, as the Shade or whatever name you call yourself." "I do not call myself anything. The people call me the Shadow. You endorse how much you care for your people, uncle. You criticize Vasey and his corrupt rule every chance you get. I would have thought you would have supported my fighting against it." Eloise stated in an urging voice. He steeled himself and in his most disappointed tone stated: "Well I do not. I do not support it and I have forbidden it. I shall continue to prohibit you. Those are my rules, if you can not abide to them, I would no longer have you in my house." At that Eloise's face contorted with betrayal and sadness. He immediately regretted his words. He did not want her to come and think of him like she thought of his brother. That he was indifferent. The contrary, he was doing all this, because he cared too much for her, because he only had her wellbeing in mind and did not want to see her perish. She stated in a cold voice: "You fear the noose around your own neck. You are my uncle. I need you to be satisfied with who I am. I need you to protect me from the Gisbornes of this world. I shall leave, for I shall choose no other path than fighting for England." With that she ascended the stairs to her chamber.

* * *

She was stood before Vasey, as he glanced at her with an impassive, though slightly amused facial expression. "So what exactly caused this decision to come about, Lady Eloise?" She looked at him and with the most serious expression on her face stated: "Does one need a reason to devote their life to the Lord, sir?" After her confrontation with Sir Edward, she had remembered that Sir Guy had told her that an Abbess was currently in Nottingham Castle. The Mother Superior of the Abbey in Rutherford. Eloise, still disturbed by her uncle's words and his demand that she leave his home had come to a resolve: she would leave Nottingham with the Abbess and she would become a nun, just like her namesake had done. In the abbey, after taking the cloth, she would finally be able to breathe again, having escaped the oppressive atmosphere that had surrounded her since her arrival in Nottinghamshire. She would leave her uncle, his halls and _him._ She would leave Sir Guy, escape him and his effect on her. She would devote her life to Christ and she would forget the tall, brooding man. With time, she would forget him and how he had simultaneously caused her pain and ecstasy. She would be rid of him.

The Sheriff kept studying her with an amused, mocking smile on his face. Then, the door to his study opened and in came Sir Guy of Gisborne. Se had to inwardly roll her eyes. He would always be there at the least opportune moments. Always showing up when she least wanted and expected him to. "Ah, Gisborne" Vasey stated, his eyes getting a sadistic glint of excitement when his right hand man entered. "Good, I have matters to discuss with you. Tell the guards I have allowed you entry to the chapel to talk to the Abbess." The last part he directed at her, effectively dismissing her. She was about to take her leave, when Sir Guy snapped his gaze to her, for the first time since his arrival acknowledging her presence. His fierce blue gaze seemed to cause her feet to turn to stone and she was stuck on the spot. He looked at her inquiringly and questioned. "You wish to talk to the Abbess. Why?" Eloise hesitated to answer him, fearing the consequences of her revelation. Vasey's voice broke the silence as he mockingly stated to his lackey: "To borrow a pound. What do you think, Gisborne? Our dear Lady Eloise has found God and wants to dedicate her life to him." She tried to keep her features calm and impassive, as Sir Guy gazed at her with shock, anger and hurt coursing through his eyes. He then averted his gaze to the ground, as if it pained him to continue looking at her. "A nun?" He breathed puzzled "I did not know you wished to become a nun." "Sir Edward is disappointed in me and my wilfulness. I go to the abbey in hopes of learning obedience and devoting myself to a just cause in the process." He still kept his eyes trained on the ground, while he conversed with her: "Surely there are other ways." She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, even though she was not sure that he could see it, for he kept his eyes averted to the ground. "Excuse me." She said softly and turned around to go in the direction of the chapel, not looking back at Sir Guy or the Sheriff, who had been watching their interaction with fiendish glee. The last thing she heard before the door closed behind her was the derogatory voice of Vasey: "Lepers, Gisborne. Lepers. I will never understand them."

* * *

He was riding to Knighton Hall. An angry haze clouding his thoughts and his judgement, he was purely acting on instincts and his primal urges. And those were telling him to go to Knighton, to go to her, to prevent the plans she had set forth for herself. He had been surprised to find her in Vasey's study, when he had entered. He had still been murderously angry at her and the way she had treated him earlier. So he had disregarded her presence, had ignored her just the same way she had ignored him in her anger, wanting to cause her the same hurt he had always felt at her indifference. It had been a slap in the face, when Vasey disclosed the reason for her presence in his study. She had wanted to talk to the Abbess, because she wanted to become a nun. A nun. Desperation had packed him, when she had revealed her intentions, that would cause her to be forever out of his reach. He would never have her if she took the cloth. He had wanted to run after her, when she had exited the study. Had wanted to impede her, prohibit her from carrying out the foolish idea, she had put in her head. But Vasey had stopped him and ordered that he go collect the impeding taxes from the baker. He had found himself unable to refute his superior's orders, bound to carry out his duty. But, as soon as he had accomplished the task, a determination had gripped him and lead him without a second thought to Knighton. The sky was darkening, as evening approached.

His horse came to a stop before Sir Edward's manor and he angrily stalked up to the door and pounded on it with ferocity. A flustered man-servant opened the door, no doubt disconcerted by the aggressive arrival of the man before him, but Guy completely disregarded him walking past him and ascending the stairs that would lead him to her chambers. He disregarded the man, who was following him as he angrily stormed in her direction, informing him that Sir Edward had gone to dine at his friend's Manor at the village of Nettlestone and that Lady Eloise had retired for the evening. He angrily stormed up to her room and opened the door with vehemence to find her inside. Had he been in a less agitated state of mind, he would have appreciated the image before him. He would have appreciated how Eloise's long red locks cascaded down her back and shone in the candle light. He would have appreciated the fact that she was wearing a thin, white nightgown, which did little to conceal the body that was below the cloth. He would have appreciated the fact that the candles illuminated her attire in such a manner, that he could make out the curve of her breasts and waist. But currently, his mind was completely focused on what he had found out earlier today and he stored the images he unconsciously absorbed, so he could digest them at a later time, when his mind was more at ease. Eloise spun around startled and upon seeing him, her cheeks grew red with embarrassment and she crossed her arms out in front of her, intent to keep some of her dignity. But he took no notice of her discomfort, and simply spat: "You wish to become a bride of Christ?!" She looked up at him and at his tone, some of her obstinate nature returned and she raised her head defiantly and stated: "I shall become a nun. Everything has been sorted out. I shall met the Abbess, tomorrow at midday and I shall ride out with her and her retinue." His anger only rose, as she seemed to taunt him, while telling her of his plans. "I thought we were friends. And with time, I thought that perhaps you would come to consider..." He stated in a more composed voice, which was now coated with accusation. "Consider what?" She asked, while looking at him with genuine confusion colouring her eyes. He shakily exhaled wishing to dispel his distress, but it only seemed to increase. "I shall not allow it." He stated, fixing her with a dark gaze. She scoffed indignantly at that and got an obstinate look on her face: "You are not my father, nor my guardian, Sir Guy. I do not need your permission to do anything." Her defiance caused a new flood of anger to descend upon him and he stalked up to her taking her by the shoulders, the same way he had this morning and lowering his face closely to hers. With fire in his eyes, he whispered menacingly: "I shall not allow you to go. I shall stop your departure. I shall stop your leaving with all my power. And if you manage to escape me, I shall go after you to the Abbey of Rutherford and bring you back. Even if I have to drag you out of there by your hair." She was looking at him, her eyes wide with fear at his ferocity. She was struck speechless by his actions. But he was not finished: "You are mine. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I coveted you. I shall strive to make you mine, my woman, my wife. And no other, not even the Lord shall have you." If possible, her eyes widened at his claim and she simply looked at him, while nervously licking her lips. Her chest was heaving, as she struggled to breath. He was calmer, more composed. He closed his eyes and stepped away from her, then he turned around and exited her chambers without a further word. Eloise was left in his wake feeling flustered.


	25. Wasted, remaining hope

Chapter 25

_"All this time spent in vain. Wasted years. Wasted gain. All is lost. Hope remains and this war's not over."- Shattered, Trading Yesterday _

He slapped his hand against the wood of the portcullis in frustration. That damned, pesky outlaw Robin Hood had escaped him once more. Had again made him a fool. He had been so close. So close to destroying his constant annoyance, was so close to obliterating the proverbial thorn in his side once and for all. But once more Hood had outsmarted him, Gisborne and the whole of the Nottingham Guard. Those incompetent imbeciles. "Go after them", he screamed in frustration, unwilling to have Hood just barely escape his clutches, once more. Unwilling to recognize that he had again lost to the outlaw. But those blubbering idiots just stood there, looking at him wide-eyed, while the distance between them and the outlaws increased, as did the certainty that Hood would live another day. He remembered how Hood had held his curved blade to his neck. He would always boast that the outlaw was not the killing type, but as he had stood there, his life on a knife's edge and completely in Hood's mercy, he had not been so certain. Oh, how he loathed Hood and his constant flaunting of his defiance to Vasey. Oh, how he loathed his mockery, his cocky self-assured, overconfident tone. Oh, how he had loathed it, as Hood had stated in his ear, that he had not been the only one to have been made a fool today, before making his victorious escape. And that is when the implications behind Hood's words began to sink in and as it hit him, his eyes widened in alarm. That damned abbess. He had known something was fishy about her.

He bellowed at the guards to raise the portcullis and as soon, as the gates had been raised a height to accommodate his frame. He took off running toward the chapel, where he had imprisoned the pious vermin. Correction, the pretend pious vermin. He ran toward the chapel, all the while fearing the worst, knowing what he would find when he entered the place of worship, that had been so inconsequential to Vasey before, but which he now ran toward, as if it contained his salvation, as if in the place he would find the Holy Grail. But, he found nothing in the chapel. Not his salvation, not the Holy Grail and most importantly not the Abbess, or the imposter, as what he would now think her of. He should have known, the dark-skinned woman had been too spirited to have been a nun. He had sensed the unholy aura she had exuded, but had disregarded it, thinking that all cleric members exuded the same unpure semblance. She was gone, and had deluded him. All he found, as he entered the chapel was disarray, her attire having been discarded and laid on the altar. No doubt a last personal taunt at him, her wanting to humiliate him even after she had long departed. He grabbed the holy clothes in anger and threw them on the ground. Across him, he spied the broken window, which she had no doubt used as her means of escape. He moved toward the shattered glass in hopes of confirmation and barely registered that Gisborne had arrived with the guards behind him, taking in the disarray of the chapel. Vasey had reached the window and looked down to see a long rope, which she had used to climb down the wall. He pursed his lips and exhaled heavily to expel his frustration. Acknowledging defeat, Vasey moved toward one of the overturned benches and sat down on the edge, his shoulders slumped. He heard Gisborne breath out beside him, obviously relieved: "She was not a nun." He looked at his right hand man, questioning how he could sound relieved at having been deceived. He saw that Gisborne had his head bowed down, but it did nothing to conceal the bright smile that had spread across his right hand man's face. Without offering any explanation to his peculiar behaviour, Gisborne turned around and ran off. No doubt to Knighton, to her, and Vasey had to sneer as he thought of the red-haired girl. Of course, Gisborne was relieved that the abbess was an imposter. It meant that the leper he had been snivelling around like a spaniel, would not become a nun. As he thought, that now he would not be rid of the girl, a new wave of disappointment coursed through him. He had been so delighted yesterday to hear of her plans to distance herself from Nottingham. But, now he feared he would never be rid of her. Another wasted opportunity to have gotten rid of another headache.

* * *

Eloise was saddling her horse in preparation to ride to Nottingham Castle, where she would meet the Abbess she had spoken to yesterday and both of them would proceed to the Abbey of Rutherford. Sir Edward was following her every step, looking quite flustered. Since she had informed him of her plans to take the cloth, Sir Edward had besought her to reconsider. Had been asking that she stay, fearful now to lose her company. But Eloise was obstinate and she laid her blanket on Lark's back, she told him: "Uncle, I do not wish to leave you. But you have given me a choice, either I stay and chose a life I could never want, or I leave and chose my own destiny. I made my choice yesterday." "Please, Eloise. Be reasonable. Reconsider. Is there nothing I can do to make you stay?" He urged her. She was ascending the stairs, but at his question she turned around and addressed him: "Yes, there is. Accept the path I have chosen for myself. Accept me." "If Vasey captures you, he will torture and you will hang. Please, do not ask me to allow you to be so selfish." Eloise looked at him with a pained look and stated: "I have acquiesced to your every wish uncle, because I did not wish to disappoint you. I have tried to become more proper, more lady-like. But I will not desist of the Shadow, I will not desist of Robin Hood. I will not abandon my cause. I will not marry the next best tyrant, who asks for my hand." She said with passion. Sir Edward simply kept glancing at her, studying her and finally his face dropped and he questioned silently: "So those are your demands?" "Yes" Eloise answered solemnly. He closed his eyes and hoped that with his next words, he was not sealing his niece's fate: "Then... I accept." He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him with a tender look and a warm smile on her lips, the slumping of her shoulder suggesting her relief. "Then... I shall stay." And with that she descended the stairs, to start unsaddling her horse.

He stood beside her, as she removed her things from the mare. "Sir Guy came earlier to call. I sent him away." At the mention of the dark-clad knight, Eloise's eyes flashed with something Sir Edward could not recognize, but she gave no sign that she had acknowledged his statement, keeping her eyes almost stubbornly on the clasp of her horse's saddle. He sighed at his niece's hard head. "I shall fend him off, for as long as you wish. But do not think I am blind to your affections toward him." She snapped her eyes to him at that statement and looked at him disbelieving. He smiled wanly at her, before turning around and entering Knighton Hall.

* * *

He walked slowly toward her, the reign of his horse in his hands, while he led Judas in the direction he was going. She was kneeling on the grassy expanse of a meadow, just outside of Knighton. Her wicker basket was at her side and she was busy plucking purple blossoms from the ground. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was heathers she was picking and wondered at her peculiar choice. Heathers were not plants, that were wildly appreciated, for their uncultivated and wild demeanour repelled the ladies. He approached her and decided to announce his presence by addressing her: "I came to call on you earlier, but your uncle stated that you were indisposed to receive any guests." At his voice, she turned around and moved to stand up, gathering her basket filled with the wild purple blossoms like a treasure in her arms. He continued to move toward her, until he stood before her, closely yet still at a respectable distance. She tightened her jaw and averted her eyes to the ground before stating: "I know, my uncle informed me." After that statement, silence descended upon the pair. Sir Guy struggled to continue their conversation, but then stated: "He has also informed you then, that we found out that the Abbess of Rutherford was an imposter?" She moved her gaze up and looked at him, her brows furrowed, urging him to explain further.

So, he did. He told her of the bargain Vasey had made with two bounty hunters to capture Robin Hood. He told her how when the two men had left, the Abbess had escaped from her confinement in the castle chapel, as well. This had led them to believe that the three individuals had been con artists, who had managed to trick the Sheriff off 500 pounds. "But, surely you knew this. I relayed the whole tale to Sir Edward, when I came to call earlier. I was sure he would have told you." Understanding dawned in her eyes and her lips stretched in a soft, loving smile: "No, he did not. I believe he wished to be kind to me." She whispered contemplatively. Spurned on by her sweet smile, he stated, taking a step closer to her "Other people wish to be kind to you, if you would let them." With that, he picked one of the blossoms, she had in her basket. As he raised the flower to put it in her hair, the wind carried the scent the blossoms emitted toward him. He closed his eyes as the smell hit him. It was the same scent that he had come to love. The scent that he always felt, when he was in close proximity to her, the scent that caused hunger within him. Her hair, it smelled of heathers. He tucked the blossom behind her ear and as she looked at him with her sky-blue eyes, the purple of the flower contrasting with the bright red of her hair, which was gleaming as the sun shone upon it, it hit him. He was in love with her. It was the only thing, that could explain his behaviour toward her, the feelings she had awakened in him. Explained the fact, that he now pondered his every action, questioned his every decision, wondering what she would think of it, what it would cause her to think of him. He was in love with her. Perhaps, he should have not been surprised. He had known for a long time, that he wanted her, but loving her? That was something else entirely. It was so much more profound. So much deeper, so much purer. He had not expected it. He had never expected to find love, but then she had shown up in all her beauty and her kindness and had defied every expectation he had of his life. He had not been expecting it. The realisation, that he was now in too deep, that he had fallen for her and would be unable to ever go back, to stop what he felt toward her, hit him with such a force that it knocked him breathless. He glanced at her and had seen that her features had contorted with concerned puzzlement, at how his face had suddenly fallen and how his breath had seemed to quicken. Concerned, she lay her hand on his shoulder and asked him "Are you feeling alright, Guy?" She studied him and he feared that she would be able to read with her blue gaze, just what had caused his reaction. He was not ready for her to find out. Was not ready, not when he had only found out himself. Was not ready to be so completely vulnerable in front of her, were she to find out the true extent of his feelings. So, he averted his gaze, lest his eyes betray him and in a deep, raspy voice stated: "Excuse me". He then mounted Judas and rode away from her.

* * *

She dismounted Lark after having arrived at Knighton Hall. She was in high spirits and as she entered the hall and saw the familiar form of her uncle, she sat down her basket and ran toward him, forgetting herself, like a small child, to envelop him in her embrace. Sir Edward staggered back a bit at the force of the impact, but after recovering from his surprise, he fatherly returned the hug. She drew back slightly, still keeping her elderly uncle in her arms, who she now realized was not an uncle to her, but more like a father. She smiled at him happily, pouring all of her affections for the elderly man in her gaze. "Thank you." She stated before returning her chin to rest at her uncle's shoulder and inhaling the comforting smell of ash in his hair. She felt the reverberations of his chuckles in his chest and he stroked her hair lovingly. "What do you thank me for my child?" "Sir Guy informed me of what he told you, when he came to call earlier. He told me that you knew the Abbess was an imposter, yet you did not tell me." "It made no difference" he stated lightly. "It makes all the difference. You knew that I had nowhere to go and was bound to return. You did not have to give in to my demands. I would have been bound to stay anyways, yet you still acquiesced. I simply do not understand why." She rambled, her cheek never leaving the warm shoulder of her uncle. But, then he drew back causing her to raise her head and look him. Her uncle was looking at her with a serious, yet affectionate gaze and stated: "Perhaps, I have come to grow proud of the charge I was gifted with." This caused a bright smile to twist her lips and happiness filled her, as she once again embraced the man, who had provided her with all the fatherly love, she had been deprived off in her childhood. She was happy.


	26. Last, unblessed confession

Chapter 26

_"This will be my last confession. I love you never felt like any blessing. Whispering like it's a secret. Only to condemn the one who hears it, with a heavy heart."- Heavy in your arms, Florence+ The Machine_

Nottingham town was blazoned with colour and joy. The usually dreary streets of the settlement, that often seemed completely grey in appearance due to the cobblestone pavement and the faded wood, of which the houses consisted of, were now bathed in sickly yellow and ominous black. The two foreboding colours, that the Nottingham Guard wore to signify their allegiance to the Sheriff, however did nothing to desolate the cheerful mood, which passed through the air. The sun was shining upon the stonewall-encircled settlement, which Much would always direlish when his Master, his men and him visited, for this visit always contained the promise of a precarious situation. Whenever Much thought of Nottingham, it would always come to his mind as a hapless site, which was constantly bathed in shade, as if God had completely forsaken it and its people. A people, who lived in constant torment and paucity. A people, who always despondently walked through the alleyways in their faded clothing, their shoulders slumped, as if they always carried an invisible oppressive weight. Yet, today the inhabitants of the town along with all the other citizens of Nottinghamshire ran gaily through the streets. Their usual weary expressions were replaced with a jubilant demeanour. The women wore flowers in their hair. The men tried to impress and win the favour of the lady, who had tickled their fancy. All watched in awe and wonder the displays of street performers, for whom this was a particularly joyful and profiting time. The people of Nottinghamshire ran with fascination and happiness through the heavily decorated streets of Nottingham town, which had let go of its disheartened atmosphere, for today it was the July Festival, and not a soul could bear being in downbeat mood. The air around Much was thick with cheerful babble, the scent of summer flowers and food, which came from the stands assembled in the courtyard, and the almost oppressive heat of the sun, which made Much transpire underneath his heavy clothing.

The nobles sat in an erected tent, slightly separated from the happenings of the common people, yet still close enough that they could disfruit of the joyous atmosphere. They sat around tables underneath the textile yellow and black pavilion, which protected them from the unyielding rays of the sun, and indulged in cool ale and hearty food. They sat drunkenly and boisterous, infected by the jubilant mood, which had spread like an infection through Nottingham Town. Their stiff-nosed tact forgotten in favour of their diversion, as the men conversed and drank from their goblets with rowdy elation, and the normally uptight, composed women tittered like young maids, their normally discreet appearance made more jovial by the flowery ornamentations in their hair. The lords and ladies were situated in a manner, which gave them the best view of the elevated stage, which with its red-golden flowing drape serving as a background, cut the view of the looming Nottingham Castle off. The stage, where later an amusing spectacle was bound to take place. The same stage, which Much stood beside along with John, and Allan poorly disguised in his opinion, for the entirely brown clothing with colourful ribbons hanging down from it in vibrant red, green and yellow, did little to hide their identity. Anyone who had seen them before would no doubt recognize them, and unfortunately the Sheriff and Guy of Gisborne were among this group. They could only hope that the two men were sat at a sufficient distance, which would prevent them from properly spotting the outlaws. Much was annoyed that the clothing offered so little protection, but covered enough to make them asphyxiating warm. He thought the whole of his Master's plan was phlegmatic, but Robin was determined to disrupt the Sheriff's day of enjoyment and possibly make an exhibition out of him, by flaunting his superiority over the sadistic steward of Nottingham in front of all the assembled. John, Allan and him were to distract the Sheriff and Gisborne, while Robin and Will entered the castle and would take a generous portion of the affluence stored in Vasey's treasure room. His master would then no doubt make a showy and heroic entry, to flaunt his scheme in front of Gisborne and the Sheriff, which would no doubt cause a massive hysteria to break out, the chaos only worsening with the amount of people present, who in their fear would run through the streets of Nottingham seeking escape and protection. Although this certainty presided in Much, he trusted his Master to orchestrate a heroic, almost miraculous escape. But, he loathed to disrupt the contentment of the people, who received too little of it already. He contented himself watching the dalliance of the men and women, as they watched the talented jugglers, jesters and mummer, who were trying to earn their living in the fair. He watched as they gaily skipped around the Pole, holding onto the brightly coloured, ornamented ribbons. He watched as couples engaged in dance, accompanied by the lively music of street musicians, equipped with lutes, viols, rebecs and recorders, all which emitted a dulcet melody.

He was so absorbed by watching the happenings, that had Allan not shook him slightly he would have missed how his Master and Will gained entry into the castle, signalling them to start their distraction. Another one of Robin's men ascended the stage, in the usual orator's garb, which he had obtained by knocking the original person responsible for this task unconscious. He animatedly announced the spectacle, thus garnering the attention of all the nobles, assembled under the Pavillion, as well as from some of the common people nearby. John, Allan and himself ascended the stage and boisterously tried to gain the attention of Vasey and Gisborne by engaging in jests and other entertaining play. Much could see that they had been successful in their efforts, as all nobles looked upon them, some in slight confusion by the atypical antics of the entertainers. From his location on the stage, Much could see Eloise, who was looking at them with a look of astonishment, and was sat beside her uncle Sir Edward and Guy of Gisborne at the table occupied by Sheriff Vasey, which coincidentally was the one that was closest to the stage. As Much gazed upon her, he could see why his Master fancied the girl. She was wearing a forest, deep green dress and her lustrous red hair was decorated with small, yellow primroses, which alloted her with an even more delicate air. The girl was without a doubt lovely and he could see why both Robin and Gisborne were attracted to her. Her look of astonishment was to be attributed to her recognizing of them, as she furrowed her brows and silently asked them for the reason of their being here. Much was worried, if Eloise had been able to recognize them, then so would Sir Guy, who was sat beside her on the wooden bench. He could already see that the leather-clad, brooding man had gotten a hint of suspicion in his cold grey eyes and was studying them intently trying to categorise them. Eloise, as if sensing Much's worry and the reason for it, slightly pivoted her body toward Gisborne and put her hand on his cheek, redirecting his gaze and attentions to her, in an attempt to aid the outlaws. Much saw her giving a bright smile to Gisborne, who while gazing at the girl, who spoke animatedly to him, seemed to have forgotten his earlier inspection. She kept her right hand on the brooding man's cheek, and with her free hand grabbed her wine goblet. Gisborne was busy eagerly answering to whatever she had told him, while out of the corner of her eyes, she glanced over to the outlaws on the stage and, at seeing their antics and attire, raised her goblet to her mouth in an attempt to conceal her amusement.

Eloise was able to distract Guy of Gisborne, but there was another who could have recognized them upon closer inspection and he did, which was proven to Much, when Vasey rose from his chair screaming: "Outlaws on the stage. Apprehend them." At the same moment as the guards were advancing upon them, Robin exited the castle and came to the assistance of the three men, who would have been no doubt outnumbered by the brigade of armoured men, who ran toward them, the steel of their drawn swords glinting menacingly in the light of the late afternoon. As the fight began, Much spied out of the corner of his eyes an annoyed Eloise, who was rolling her eyes at Robin's flaunting. Much shared the sentiment, but was engaged in fending off the sword of a bulky man in steel armour, who had brought his weapon swinging down. He would continuously repeat this action until Robin had been able to organize a miraculous escape for them.

* * *

It was like the end of the world had descended upon them. Much was sweating from exhaustion and his arms were becoming heavy and lame from continuously withstanding the attacks of the weapons, which were unstoppingly raining upon him. The forceful impact of the weapons causing reverberations to course through his arms, that only added to the growing ache in his limb. The sky had darkened, as evening had descended upon them, the now dark blue sky only adding to the intimidation the situation. In a sense, the dark sky was better suited and was welcome, since the fighting men were rid of the annoyance the ever shining sun provided, which would only cause them to overheat and could potentially blind them, thus adding to their vulnerability. And that was one thing that the men had to discard before entering the battle scene, which now raged in the centre of Nottingham Castle. They had to discard their vulnerability and their humanity, becoming automatic machines, whose thought extended on little else than wielding their drawn weapons and fending off attacks. The streets of Nottingham were no longer illuminated by the shining sun, but by the illumination of flames, which's source Much could not identify in his battle-focused haze. The light of the flames were lighting the faces of the men in a gruesome way, which was almost demonic in nature and which reminded Much of his lessons about the flames of purgatory. The young servant could not help but compare his situation with hell; the dimension was surely nearby, looming in proximity, eagerly awaiting the victims of the ambush, Robin had orchestrated. As always people ran off in fear of danger, death and falling into the godforsaken abyss. He could hear the distressed cry of the villagers and the fearful discord, which had settled like a blanket over the streets, which had been earlier blanketed with cheer and jubilation. As he had predicted, the people were running through the streets in mass hysteria and the anarchy, which their frantic running caused, only added to Much's feeling that Armageddon was upon them tonight.

He parried the attack of another heavily armoured guard and pushed the man off with such a force, that it caused the guard to fall back and hit his head on the pavement, rendering him unconscious. Much looked around frantically; almost missing the constant appearance of a cling swinging down on him. But, he could see no guards coming his way and he thanked heaven for that short respite. He was heaving with breaths, as he tried to slow his galloping heart and he looked around him frantically, searching for his friends. He saw that they were all engaged in battle and he considered going to assist Will, who looked to be overwhelmed with the ferocity the guard was attacking him with. Yet, he knew that he would be of no help to the youngest, dark-haired outlaw, due to his own exhaustion. Much looked away, relieved, when Will seemed to gain the upper-hand in the struggle with his axes. He continued perusing the battle scene with his intent eyes. His eyes swept over all the men fighting and came to a stop when he spied the leather-clad figure of the Sheriff's right-hand-man. He seemed exhausted and sweat-drenched and his eyes were alight with anger at the happenings on the courtyard, as well as concern for Eloise, who he had gripped by the shoulders and was talking to with agitation, no doubt urging her to leave. The red-haired girl had brandished a small dagger, which would do little to protect her, but which no doubt added to her sense of security. She had probably remained on the courtyard out of worry for the outlaws, whom she had befriended and she had an obstinate, yet worried look on her face, as she looked up at the brooding man. He in turn seemed worse for wear. Much could see shallow scratches on his cheek, where a cling had briefly pertuded his skin and he could see that the man had an arrow coming out of his right leg and one on his right shoulder, which were no doubt Robin's. She spoke back to him urgently and began to pull on his arms, wanting to depart with him in the direction of the castle and no doubt safety. But, Guy remained on the spot, softly yet firmly pushing her away, to safety. But suddenly, Guy's eyes widened and he pushed her down to protect her from the fatal swing of one of the outlaw's mace. The force of the swing would have no doubt rendered her unconscious and perhaps even bashed in her skull. Sir Guy started to fight with the outlaw with precision and a wrathful ferocity. However the outlaw, who had now brandished his sword disregarding his mace, which would be ineffective against Gisborne's ferocious swings, was equally skilled and superior due to the dark-haired man's exhaustion. The outlaw gained the upper hand and brought the hilt of the sword down on Sir Guy's head, rendering him unconscious. Eloise, who had been watching paralyzed, seemed to be shaken out of her haze by the image of her protector's form falling to the ground. She scrambled up to get to him and knelt beside the leather-clad, inanimate form of Gisborne. She inspected his form with fearful eyes, and her features contorted in agonized worry, as she saw his state and passed her shaking, careful hands over his chest, as if in hope that her touch would awake him.

It hit him then and the realization was startling. Perhaps even more than when the outlaws had first overheard, in the gossip of the kitchen servants at Locksley, that Sir Guy had a partiality to Eloise. They had never expected that the brooding, cruel, dark-humoured man could care for anyone other than himself. But Eloise had proven to be the exception. But the outlaws, especially Robin had rationalized, had assumed that Gisborne's affections were unrequited. They had always believed that someone as compassionate and kind as the red-haired girl could never care for someone as depraved and malevolent as Gisborne. Much had always assumed that the man, who had taken his Master's estate from him, was bound to be alone in his feelings for Sir Edward's niece. Especially Robin for whom the assumption was not only a fact, but also a source of hope that his affections for Eloise would be mutual. He knew that his master hoped that after the return of King Richard, that he and Eloise would be together, after having discovered their mutual feelings. Eloise looked around her frantically and as she spied Much, she looked at him with a pleading, desperate expression, and she urged: "Please help me!" She was trying to get Gisborne out of the fray, she was trying to prevent further danger to befall his comatose figure. And as she looked at him, with a pained expression, knelt down and bent over Sir Guy's form, Much knew that his Master was in for a rude awakening, if he continued to steadfastly believe that Eloise was indifferent to and repelled by Guy of Gisborne. "Much, please." Eloise's pleading voice broke him out of his reverie and caused him to move almost unconsciously toward Eloise and the form of his master's enemy.

* * *

It was deadly silent. Eloise sat on a chaise inside a chamber of Nottingham Castle and it was completely reticent. Only the sound of her and Guy's breathing broke the quietude, and she imagined that everything else in the world had been obliterated. That everything had ceased to be, and only she and the unconscious man on the bed remained. She was tempted to approach the window and look outside to confirm or dispel her assumptions, but it was as if she was glued to the chair. She could not move, and her eyes were studiously trained on Sir Guy's form, on the steady rise and fall of his chest, that signalled that she was not the only alive thing left in this world. She could not tear her eyes of his moving chest, as if she feared that one moment of inattentiveness would cause him to disappear, to cease being, to leave her completely alone, and the thought of him leaving, him ceasing to be was unendurable. He could not abandon her, not when it already seemed to her that only the world inside the chambers existed, and the rest had fallen apart.

It was silent and after what seemed like hours of panicked screams and battle cries filling the air around her, pushing her down, threatening to drown her, it disconcerted her. It caused tension to rise within her like an unleashed tempest. It caused her to be on-guard, like she was being pursued by a horrifying beast, who was only awaiting the moment she felt easier to attack her. It caused her to anxiously await a new pandemonium to rise. This was the proverbial 'quiet before the storm' and she hated it. She hated being this uneasy. Feeling this helpless, a feeling that only increased as she gazed upon Guy and saw the state of his wounds, his comatose unresponsiveness. She needed to do something, anything. The adrenaline of being in the battle scene had died down, when Much had left after helping her bring Guy's statuesque frame to safety. She felt uneasy, tense and the worse, which only seemed to increase her agitation: she felt complacent. Her sitting beside Guy, seemingly helpless reminded her of a scene in her childhood. A scene that was not of the greatest importance and the situation had not left marks upon her, but she recalled it nonetheless. It was about a year before her mother had taken ill. At that time Lady Anne of Chester had been prosperous and vital and Eloise could not remember a time her mother had looked healthier. Perhaps, it was only her mind that wanted to believe that. That contrasted this joyous image with memories of her sickly mother. But she could not bring herself to care if the image was real or not. She wished to believe that her mother had enjoyed the best of health before her descent into illness. She remembered that her father adored hunting. On sunny, pleasant days he would always ride into the forest and come back with carcasses of animals. Eloise had always equated him with death, as he ominously returned on his dark brown horse with the bleeding corpses of his spoils. But one day, it was her father that had been hurt. He had fallen off his horse, after something had caused the animal panic. Eloise remembered the state her father had come back in vividly. The man had always been so strong, her father had always seemed invincible in her eyes, but not then. Then he had looked injured, on the brink of death. Her mother had not been able to spare her this image, that had reminded her over the following years that her father was after all human, before sending her away. Little Eloise had been confined to her room and could only, through sound, follow the happenings. There had been a great commotion, as her father had been brought up to the master's chambers and the physician had tended to him. Only when the noise had ceased and a disquieting calm had blanketed Chester Manor, had she dared to leave her rooms and approach the slightly opened door, which lead to her parent's room. She remembered looking in through the narrow opening and seeing her father's resting figure on the bed, looking stronger than she had last seen him, but his bandages hinting at his injuries. She had seen her mother's silhouette sitting on a chair beside her husband's bed. She had seen her mother take the Lord of Chester's hands and bowing her head slightly. She had seen her mother's frame, illuminated by the faint candle light, and had heard the warm voice of the woman, as she had prayed.

And that is what Eloise set out to do. She took Guy's large, calloused hand in her own and bowed her head and she prayed. She didn't pray often, compared to others. She virtuously went to mass every Sunday, as was expected of her. She honoured God and followed the laws set out by him. She was devoted and she did have faith in him, but she never resorted to praying, when distressed. No, she always prefered to solve her problems actively herself, rather than relying on prayer. Still, she felt so helpless and useless, and she remembered her mother. She just knew that she had to do something, and she thought the best thing to do was praying. So, she prayed. She prayed, while she felt Guy's condition worsening. She prayed, she begged God that he would leave him to her. That God would not take him. Not, when she was all alone, and everything else seemed gone.

The silence was broken by knocking on the heavy wooden door. The noise was so unexpected, that Eloise jumped at it. Having recovered from her surprise, she felt relief and hastily moved toward the sound. Desperate to prove that world outside this room did exist. She opened the door and allowed the servant entrance. She had asked the maid to bring her smelling salts, needle and thread, bowls and everything else she would have required to tend to Guy's wounds. The maid seeing Guy's injuries had offered to fetch the doctor, but Eloise had prevented her from doing so. Guy's injuries were superficial, the worst being an arrow wound. She could tend to the man herself and the physician was no doubt busy tending to the other victims the ambush had caused. She took the items from the maid and gratefully dismissed her. She took the smelling salts and immediately moved to Guy's side. Kneeling on the bed and bending over his form, she took off the cork from the small flask and put the odorous concoction beneath his nose. The Sheriff's right-hand-man inhaled sharply in response and his eyes opened. Upon seeing his grey blue orbs, staring around him disconcerted, she exhaled deeply and bowed her head in relief.

"What happened?" Guy's voice asked, raspy from his still half-unconscious state. She looked at him, concern and relief swimming in her eyes and answered: "You were knocked unconscious by the hilt of an outlaw's sword. You're in a chamber at the castle, which I brought you into with the help of a guard." He looked at her, absorbing the information. "The ambush?" he asked and she answered: "It's over. The outlaws were able to retreat." At this, Guy's eyes flashed with indignation and Eloise was annoyed that in his state his biggest worry was not his well-being, but Hood and their trifle. He made as if to rise, but Eloise pushed him down by the shoulder and said: "Don't move. You took a rather strong blow to the head. You can deal with the outlaws some other time." Still he stubbornly tried to sit up and seeing that the man was obstinate Eloise exhaled exasperated and helped him sit up. She turned from him and went to gather the tools, that the maid had brought, from the dresser she had placed them on. She returned and sat on the bed at Guy's side, close enough so that she could properly tend to the wound. She was focused on preparing the needle, when he addressed her: "Were you hurt during the ambush?" She smiled, not looking up from the instrument. "No, you took the full brunt of the attack." "Why did you disobey me, when I asked you to get to safety?" he questioned, slight anger creeping into his tone. She looked into his grey blue orbs and stated honestly, vehemently: "I would not have left you alone outside. I didn't have the heart for it." After that she looked at her tools, not able to look at him any longer. "I can take care of myself" She heard him, and she knew he was trying to be severe on her, but his words came out softer than intended. She smiled sadly, still not meeting his gaze, which she felt on her, burning her with its intensity. She smiled sadly and said in a soft voice: "I know. I still found myself unable to abandon you." And it was the truth. She had not been able to abandon him, despite knowing that he was capable of handling himself. Despite the fact, that she was supposed to still be angry at him, to still be repulsed by him having abandoned his son. Since their meeting in the meadow, he had come periodically to call on her and she had dismissed him, seemingly indifferent. But she had forgotten her resent when the ambush had started and it had given way to concern. To fear, when she had seen his unconscious form lying on the cobblestone pavement.

"I shall have to take out the arrow in your shoulder and your leg." She laid her right hand around the wound and pulled out the weapon with her left hand quickly, intent not to cause him too much pain. The only sign he gave was a low grunt, each time one of the arrows exited his flesh. She felt him grabbing her chin gently and pulling her head to meet his gaze and in a low, soft voice he said: "I did not mean to be harsh to you out there. I did not mean to scream at you. But I did not want you there. I wanted to know you were safe. I couldn't bear to see you hurt." He moved his hand, so that he was now cradling her right cheek and she tilted her head to lean into his soothing touch. After a few moments of indulging in the sensation, she shook herself and stated: "Sir Guy, I need to see the wound on your shoulder. Please, remove your shirt." With that she turned around and went to the basin to wash her hands, in precaution to prevent infection. She heard the rustling of fabric and heard the creaking of the bed, as Guy moved on it. Eloise turned around and the image that she was met with left her feeling flustered. He was naked from the waist up, revealing his strong, bare torso to her. As she gazed upon his athletic frame, no doubt a result of his extensive training, she felt herself grow warm and felt an ache settle in her stomach. But, this ache was blissful and left her wanting more. She, unashamed, let her eyes roam over his masculine chest, absorbing every inch. And then she saw the cocky smirk he was giving her. He had realized that she was staring at him appreciatively. Embarrassment rose within her at having been caught so shamelessly studying him and she felt herself blush. She moved toward him, almost reluctantly, studiously keeping her gaze on the ground. She still did not look at him, as she sat on the bed beside him and took up the needle. She inspected the red wound on his shoulder, before putting a steadying hand on his right arm. She felt the robustness of his arms and his warm skin and the ache in her stomach only increased. Her breath had quickened and she closed her eyes willing the sensations away. When she had regained her composure, she started to sew shut his wounds carefully. Intent on keeping her focus only on the craft and not on the half-naked man in front of her, who had caused her to feel unprecedented want.

* * *

She had almost finished tending to the wound. She had sewn it shut and was busy, cleaning the stitching and bandaging it. She could feel his scorching, intense gaze upon her, watching her almost reverently. A silence had settled upon them and it was saturated with sensuousness, which left her feeling warm and agitated. She chose to break it and said with a small smile: "You are still staring at me." She did not dare to raise her gaze in fear of what her reaction would be if she looked him in the eyes. She remembered the way he had looked at her that night, when he had come to confront her about her plans to become a nun, when he had revealed his intentions. She had been fearful, for he had looked so angry, but at the same time, she had felt white-hot excitement course through her at the passionate look in his eyes, at his determination pertaining her. That excitement was returning now under this situation and she was determined to eliminate it, lest it cause her to do something she would later regret. His husky voice answered her: "Forgive me. I can't help it." She smiled tersely and stated in a matter-of-fact tone: "Do not ask my forgiveness. It is something you can't help, therefore you do not truly regret it and seek my forgiveness for it. Do you?" The atmosphere in the room had perceptibly shifted, it was now filled with something akin to determination and Eloise kept her eyes fixed on her working hands. "Not for this." He stated huskily and then she felt his calloused hands grip her chin gently and lift her head, so that she was looking him in the eyes. And what she saw swimming in his grey blue eyes made her breath hitch. His eyes were filled with desire and longing, a lust that only caused the longing she felt herself to intensify. His gaze flickered across her face, his eyes coming to rest upon her lips, which he was studying almost passionately. She did not consciously register what she did next. It was as if her body had taken over completely and was dictating her every action. Her mind was clouded in a numb haze. She felt herself move closer to him, so close that it left her skin screaming for more contact. She felt herself put her arms around Guy's neck, still mindful of his injuries, but her movements held a passion, which was undeniable. She barely registered, as their lips simultaneously moved closer, before a knock on the heavy wooden door caused her to jump up and away from him.

She looked away from Guy and tried to regain her breathing and her composure. She moved toward the door and opened it to see a servant outside, who had come to tell her that her uncle was frantically searching for her. She nodded her head in acquiescence before following the servant out of the room. Not daring to look back at Guy.


	27. Consuming Fire

Chapter 27

_"I will be the one that's gonna hold you. I will be the one that you run to. My love is a burning, consuming fire."- Whispers in the dark, Skillet _

"It was foolish and nothing you say will make me change my opinion." Eloise stated obstinately, as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned on her stool to glare at the slightly abashed outlaw. Robin sighed, Eloise had been admonishing him since he had climbed in through her window into her room. She had called him foolish, arrogant and childish and Robin was starting to become annoyed at her scolding. He did recognize that his plan was fool-hardy and that it would have been safer to have postponed it for another time. Some of his men had suffered grave injuries, though thankfully none of them had perished. The confrontation had gotten out of hand and had yielded a fierce battle, one of the more brutal confrontations between the outlaws and the guard of Nottingham. He could not blame Eloise for being angry, surely she had gotten frightened and had been concerned for him. He himself had been slightly fearful, as he had gazed upon the battle scene to see which extents it had reached. He addressed the fiery red-head in front of him: "Eloise it's what we do. I had left Vasey alone for too long. I was bound to steal from him." At that she stood and stalked to him until she was standing in front of him and she hissed: "Do you know how many lives you risked yesterday in your selfish need to flaunt yourself in front of Vasey, in your selfish need to break the law." She angrily turned away from him and approached the window, turning from him and gazing at the landscape, which was bathed in the reddish light of the late afternoon sun. Robin rolled his eyes, he knew that she had a point, but his pride would not allow him to give in. He approached her from behind and said: "Do you not think you are being hypocritical? You do after all break Vasey's laws daily, as the Shadow. You have allied yourself with our cause, and this allegiance alone is treason in the Sheriff's eyes. Or have your loyalties changed?" She inhaled a calming breath and he could see her shoulders slump slightly, as she relinquished the tense posture she had adopted since his arrival. She turned to him slowly and she no longer had that wrathful look, but one that stated her disappointment in him and it made him cringe. "Never doubt my allegiance to you, King Richard and justice. As long as I live I shall fight for our cause. Always choose our cause. But... What you did yesterday was unnecessary, Robin. You put innocent people in danger. You put the exact same people in danger, who I risk my life nightly to protect. My friend, your taunting and flaunting is unnecessary. I understand that you wish for recognition for what you do. But, and this is not the first time I say this, your arrogance shall get you in trouble." She put her hand on his shoulders and at hearing her assurance of devotion, Robin felt slightly appeased. He grinned tauntingly at her: "That is what we do, Eloise. We get ourselves in trouble by our flaunting our disregard of Vasey's laws." "I do not flaunt, Robin. I try to contribute to our cause without being recognized. I try to contribute within the law." she stated fiercely and moved past him to sit on her stool she had earlier been perched on. "Do not try to suggest that you are less daring than me, Eloise. The simple fact that you continue your nightly raids, while you have a 50 pound compensation on your head is proof enough of your bold audaciousness." he stated with equal ferocity. "I do not provoke him, Robin. I know that it must seem, as if I am defending the Sheriff at the moment. I know I must seem bashful to you, but I have responsibilities. I still have to live within the law for the sake of my uncle's safety. We move in different directions." A desire that had been coursing within Robin for so long packed him again and he approached Eloise, who had her back turned to him and he rested his chin on her shoulders, inhaling her flowery scent. This wish had been plaguing him, since she had spent time recuperating at the outlaws' camp. He had wanted to talk to her about this idea that had gripped him for so long, but he had never found the words. There had never been an opportune moment. Yet, this moment an unprecedented courage had gripped him, and was urging him to tell her about his idea. He knew it was definitely a bad time, with her being angry and arguing with him.

"Relinquish your responsibilities. Move with me in the same direction. Come and live in the camp with me and my outlaws." he whispered softly in her ears. She turned her head around and looked at him with disbelief, her sky blue eyes wide. She looked at him, her soft pink lips slightly parted. Robin felt an all-consuming need to lower his lips to hers, capturing them in a kiss. He stared yearningly at them and was unconsciously moving closer and closer, but then Eloise shook her head and stood up. Her agitated voice shook Robin out of his lust-induced reverie: "Do you know what you are asking of me?" She stood looking at him with disbelief and accusation swimming in her blue eyes. Robin rolled his eyes good-naturedly and stated: "Yes, I do. I am asking you to come and live with me. I am asking you to officialize your status as an outlaw. Eloise, you wear that pendant constantly. Do not pretend that the idea does not appeal to you. I know you enjoyed the time you spent in the camp." With that he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gazed at her, completely self-assured. She looked at him and then averted her eyes, conflict swimming in them. "I never denied it. I did enjoy living in the camp, in Sherwood Forest. But, as I stated before Robin, I have responsibilities. I can not abandon my uncle, as he shall never follow into the woods. It shall have terrible consequences for him, if it becomes known that I am an outlaw. I do not want to leave him, Robin. Not when I have just found someone who is willing to award me all the fatherly affections I was deprived of, while growing up." She raised her gaze and looked at him with determination swimming in her eyes. And at that look, disappointment sinked and weighted him down. He dejectedly lowered his gaze and at seeing his despondency, he heard footsteps approaching him. He felt Eloise embracing him, attempting to console him. He at first did not return the embrace, angry that she had denied him, though he could understand her reasons and knew that he had been selfish for wanting to take the girl away from his old friend. Still he could not help, but feel saddened that she had refused him.

Eventually he melted into the embrace and snaked his arms around her small, delicate frame, wanting to hold her. "If I did not possess responsibilities, I would follow you into the woods. For our cause, I would follow you anywhere. And who knows, perhaps I shall. But not right now, Robin. It is not yet time, not at this moment." she whispered softly, lovingly into his ears. He tightened his embrace and buried his head in her bright red mane. He felt more appeased, that she had not completely discarded the idea to live with him at the camp. "I understand" he mumbled into her hair, before he softly kissed her cheek. She smiled brightly at him, but told him that he had to leave now. It was still only late afternoon and the risk of someone finding him, and thus incriminating her was high. He felt elated that she had somewhat assured him, that in the future his wishes would come true. He was so distracted by his thoughts that as he climbed out of her window and took off into Sherwood Forest, he did not see the dark silhouette of a man atop his horse, who watched him furiously, as he took off in obvious joy.

* * *

He stood brooding, in silent wrath, before the map laid out on the table. He stood with barely contained rage in the halls of Nottingham Castle. It was late night and the darkness of the crepuscule seemed to seep through the impermeable stone walls, making the insides of the castle even more obscure than usual. His blood was boiling and he felt as if he would explode from all the feelings he had pent-up within him. Rage, Hurt, Betrayal, Jealousy. These galling feelings had been storming within him like a savage, unleashed beast and they seemed to stab at him, only adding to the painful agony he was going through. He had gone to call on Eloise at Knighton today, in the late afternoon. He was in hopes of a warm, affectionate reception by her. Especially considering the occurences of yesterday. At the memories, which had haunted him until he had arrived at Knighton this afternoon, he groaned inwardly and his throes only seemed to worsen. The feelings of pure raw betrayal and jealousy only increased, as he remembered how close they had been yesterday, how tenderly she had cared for him, remembered the way she had embraced him, how her delicate, feminine frame had been so close to his. His agony only increased as he remembered the look in her eyes and the way her soft, pink lips had been so close and the promise of what would have happened had they not once more been interrupted. Those thoughts, those images had haunted him, until he had arrived at Knighton and had seen the form of Robin Hood climbing out of her window. Had seen how the outlaw had taken off in pure joy. And then, there was no longer any place for other thoughts except those pertaining to Hood and Eloise. He had never felt such rage in his life. He had never felt so betrayed. She was consorting with outlaws, knowing how much Guy despised him, knowing the extent of Hood's responsibility in his pain, knowing that she was engaging with his worse enemy. He found himself unable to go to her and immediately confront her, the pain he felt at the discovery of her betrayal overwhelming him and rendering him inactive. He then remembered the celebration of King Richard's birthday in Locksley Manor and how she had gazed at Hood with affection in her eyes. He remembered when she had boldly defended Hood in the council. He remembered how his schemes to ambush Hood had failed, after he had told her about them. The hurt he felt at her duplicity threatened to tear him apart. He banged his fist on the table and grunted furiously.

"Now, now Gisborne. What has you in a worse mood than normally?" the nasal voice of Sheriff Vasey came from behind him. Startled Gisborne turned around and saw the older man emerging from the shadows and approaching him with a sadistic glint in his eyes. Gisborne did not answer, but simply gazed at the wall before him with grim anger. He felt Vasey come to a stop beside him and he felt the Sheriff's constantly mocking gaze taking in his demeanour. Studying him quietly with an air of disapproval radiating from him. Gisborne started to grow agitated at the Sheriff's scrutiny of him and he grew disquiet. Unable to stand his prolonged, penetrating gaze, Gisborne stalked away, attempting to escape his line of sight. He knew that in the state he was in now, he would be unable to stand Vasey's usual taunting. He would be unable to endure his mocking comments, which would intensify if Vasey discovered his pain, how betrayed he felt. He would be unable to endure Vasey's taunts, when he realised how weak that treacherous girl had made him. So he moved away from Vasey, painfully aware that the Sheriff was watching his every move. He sat himself down upon the chair and his shoulders sagged. He was exhausted. He was exhausted after having discovered her treachery, was exhausted from the physical exertion his feelings had caused him, and most of all he was exhausted from hating her, cursing her. A new desperation filled Gisborne, as he realised that he would never be rid of her, he had allowed himself to fall for her and he was in too deep, she would never relinquish the hold she had on him. He would always live with the agony that the only person he had come to care for, the only woman he would ever love, had betrayed him in favour of Robin Hood. He knew that only he was to blame, he knew that everyone was bound to betray you. He knew that placing trust in somebody would only lead to a proverbial knife in your back. But he had been blinded by her and her beauty. Her soft smile, and her kind blue eyes, as they gazed at him with tenderness. He knew now that he had just imagined it. Everything about her had been a cruel delusion. But could it truly be? No, he had not imagined her compassion and her kindness. He knew that her altruistic way was not a farce and it only pained him more, for absolution and remittal of his sins had been put in front of him, tantalizingly close, teasing him, taunting him in the knowledge that he would never be able to have her to himself. He had been cruelly deluded, had believed that he could have achieved redemption, that a creature as pure as her could have loved a monster like him.

The Sheriff now stood behind him and had placed his face uncomfortably close to his, as he stared at him over Guy's shoulder. Guy's brow furrowed and he kept his pained gaze trained on the dark, monotone wall in front of him. Vasey whispered in mock-concern: "What troubles you, my friend?" Friend, yes. Gisborne supposed that Vasey was the closest thing to a friend he had, the closest thing to a father-figure. The man had after all bestowed him with everything he had coveted in his life, had helped him rise out of poverty and squalor, had made him affluent and given him the power he had always desired. Vasey, in return, had only ever demanded his loyalty. And his soul, Vasey held his soul. And as a representative of the devil, Guy knew that the moment he had started working for Vasey he had given his soul to the devil. His hopes for redemption had been empty from the start. Eloise could have never saved him, for he had no soul to save. He was condemned to walk this earth alone, unloved, until his dying day, and afterwards he would be doomed to suffer eternal torment. His face contorted at this realisation and Vasey chuckled, seemingly enjoying his agony. Vasey, the closest thing he had to a family, the closest thing to a friend. Guy became frantic, not only at the disconcerting idea, that someone like Vasey was the only one, who remotely cared for him, but also at a new, consuming need to have consolation from the only man, who did not despise Guy. "I have seen proof that Lady Eloise and Sir Edward of Knighton have been consorting with outlaws." He said rasping. The Sheriff let out a pensive 'hmmm' before stifling silence descended upon them once more. After a few agonizingly silent moments, Vasey stated: "I can see now what has you so perturbed. You were fond of the girl, weren't you Gisborne? Always going to visit her, spending your hard-earned money on her, trying to win her appreciation, to have her pretty blue eyes look at you affectionately. Yes, I can imagine what you must be going through. Lepers, Gisborne. Lepers. They are treacherous, fickle creatures. Their affection for you is like smoke in the wind, so quickly gone, always changing, so inconstant. But gold, wealth, that will always remain with you, once you have achieved it. Isn't it better to have all this wealth instead of a woman, Gisborne. Especially, one that betrayed you so blatantly. Always when she was smiling at you, she was secretly laughing at you and your obliviousness. She was always using you, manipulating you." Guy's breath quickened, as Vasey's words reflected his betrayed ramifications and at the confirmation of his thoughts a new wave of anguish threatened to drown him. He closed his eyes and focused on steadying his breathing.

"Now consorting with outlaws, that is a hanging offence." With that Gisborne's eyes snapped open and he turned his incredulous gaze to Vasey impulsively. Then he cursed himself. He had always thought that traitors were to be rewarded with torture and death, but the idea of Eloise dying seemed to distress him so much, that his anguish at her betrayal paled in comparison. He again cursed himself and his weakness to the girl, that he had allowed her to worm her way into his cold, unfeeling heart and that he now valued her safety, her well-being even more than his own. Vasey chuckled maliciously: "Don't worry, Gisborne. They are both still nobility and as such we can not execute them without concrete proof. And unfortunately what you claim you saw is not enough. If we let the two treacherous vermin hang, the other nobles shall be unsatisfied. But, I do plan on keeping a closer eye on the sanctimonious old fart and her uncle. Gisborne, go apprehend them." Gisborne's lips twisted in a malicious, devilish smirk. He would make Eloise's life just as painful, as she had made his. "If they resist, shall I use force, my lord?" Vasey reading the malevolent intent in Gisborne's eye, responded with an equally sadistic grin and tutted him: "Haven't you learnt anything, Gisborne. Use force either way." Guy turned around and with purposeful strides went to the stables, with intentions of revenge storming within him.

* * *

She had just climbed in through her window and was in the process of removing her mask and hood. She took off her heavy cloak, and stood clad in black breeches and a black tunic, her red hair in a practical braid. She laid down her bow and her quiver filled with arrows and proceeded to light the candles in her room, to dispel the darkness that seemed to smother her. She was about to proceed downstairs to join her uncle's company, when she heard a commotion of horse hooves, which broke through the serene atmosphere of the night. She furrowed her brow and was about to turn to the window to search out the source of the commotion, when she heard a deep, booming, angry voice bellow from outside: "Sir Edward! Eloise! Come outside, NOW!" She felt cold dread wash over her, as she heard Guy's furious voice, addressing her in a way so severe, that it greatly contrasted with his usual kindness toward her. She heard pounding on the door and she was inadvertently reminded of the time he had come to her, the night before she was bound to leave for the Abbey of Rutherford. But now his voice suggested only ill intent to her and her uncle. Had he found her out? Had he somehow discovered that she was the Shadow? Had she not been stealthy enough?

Guy's voice yelling for her to come down, now came from inside the Manor and Eloise quickly descended in fear of her uncle's safety. She descended the stairs and the scene that greeted her left her speechless and disbelieving. Guy of Gisborne was threatening her uncle, holding his long, unforgiving blade to the elderly man's throat. His guards stood in every corner of her house holding torches, which's flames were uncomfortably close to the walls of her home, and she feared that they did not only function for illuminators purposes. Sir Guy was looking at her with unbridled wrath, and he seemed almost deranged as he fixed his furious gaze upon her. She knew now why so many people feared him. But, she could detect something else within his eyes, she could see betrayal and pain in his grey blue eyes, and he seemed almost driven mad by the intensity of the three emotions, which were flashing tempestuously through his eyes. She was broken out of her staring by Sir Edward's whimper of pain, due to his uncomfortable and threatening situation. Worry for her uncle took the forefront in her mind and driven by her anger at Guy's behaviour, she rushed forward and tried to lessen the strength of his hold on her uncle: "Let go of him!" He flung her back, with surprising force, that had her stumble and hissed furiously at her: "Do not tell me what to do!" Her eyes were wide with fear, as she stared at this man, who had been so gentle with her just yesterday, but now only looked at her murderously. "I came to arrest you on the charges of consorting with outlaws. You shall remain in the castle of Nottingham under house arrest, until Sheriff Vasey has come to a decision pertaining your destinies." he stated in a more composed voice, which still shook with wrath. Eloise's eyes widened. He had seen her with Robin. In a last, desperate attempt to escape the no doubt gruesome handling that her and her uncle would suffer through at Nottingham Castle, she shook her head and stated: "No!" She looked pleadingly at him, trying to get access to any part of him, that still cared for her, but all she was met with was a cold, cruel gaze that only showed his disgust at her. "If you resist. I shall torch your house." With that he signalled one of the guard's holding the torches and the armoured man immediately moved closer to the drawn curtains, wanting to set the textile on fire. Desperation gripped her at the prospect of her uncle's home being obliterated, at the place she considered home being destroyed. She desperately rushed to go and grabbed his arm to plead with him: "Guy, no! Please!" At her plea, he looked at her with an interested, yet unforgiving gaze and made a gesture, stopping the guard in his movements. "Better. Beg!" he demanded severely, intent on seeing her degradation. She moved away from him slightly and with a humiliated demeanour stated: "Please, Sir Guy. Don't burn down my house." He studied her for a few seconds after that before stating, slight satisfaction colouring his tone: "Much better." Eloise felt relief flooding her once more. "But still not good enough." Guy hissed and proceeded to take the torch from the guard and burn himself her home. She screamed no in agony and disbelief. Her home was being burned down and the man she cared for was personally the arsonist. She felt desperation and agony twist her insides and in a foolhardy attempt to save her home, she rushed toward the flames, but was stopped by Sir Guy's arms, which carried her roughly out of the burning house.

Repelled, he let go of her and immediately she was flagged by two guards, who constrained her and she exited the courtyard of Knighton Hall, one of the few places she had felt welcome at. The night was illuminated by the flames of the inferno raging within her home, the fire being fed by all of her uncle's possession.


	28. Checkmate!

Chapter 27

_"I set my moves up strategically, enemy kings are taken easily."- Checkmate, Apathy_

The room where the council was held, was bathed in shadow. It seemed as if the night was favouring the occurence, for the darkness concealed the happenings from any unwanted spectator. The only illumination was the faint flame of candles, which threw flickering shades across the frame of the there assembled, giving them an ominous, ghostly appearance, only supported by the dark hood all wore, which concealed their countenance and strived to submerge them in the darkness of the shadows. Though not visible, all emitted an air of menace and malevolence. It was abundantly clear to anyone, that this company would not discuss noble and kind intentions, for a nefarious mood of calamity had settled upon the hall, like the first layer of snow in December. The hall was cold, despite the warmth of the night outside the room. The chill was no doubt a result of the lack of humanity in the alcove, for all who were here present had lost their souls. They were tortured, soulless creatures, for deity had taken from them, as a punishment for their malevolent deeds, the component, which made a carnal vessel distinctly human. All the assembled had lost their humanity in favour of their greed and avarice long ago.

The room resembled a sadistic ritual, the hooded creatures sat on seats arranged in a semi-circle, almost threateningly. They all faced the centre of the circle and the dark silhouette of a man, who stood at the windows, and who would have been entirely imperceptible had it not been for the silvery light of the moon, which filtered through the glass of the window. This light did not illuminate the features of the man, but simply contrasted starkly with the black-clad figure, making it only more sinister. It appeared like a black, featureless form, which wandered the earth simply to spread ill-will. It was facing and looking at the outside, as if admiring all the damage it could do to this area. Abruptly, it turned to the assembled and moved toward the centre of the circle with long, premonitory strides. As the figure moved closer, the faint, flickering flames of the chandeliers bequeathed the frame features, yet this did nothing to dispel the sadistic appearance of the man. His features were contorted in a satisfied, demonic smirk and his eyes glinted with sadistic glee. As he moved toward the centre of the hall, the man glimpsed to the side out of the corner of his eyes at the other two individuals, who had not taken a seat and whose visage, similarly to him, was not obstructed by a hood. The man looked at the blond woman, who was clad in a tight, provocative attire and who emitted sensual evilness, as she smirked supportingly at him. He looked at the grim, dark-haired man stood at her side, whose statuesque frame clad in black leather awarded him a threatening aura, that not a soul would dare to cross.

He moved toward the centre of the circle, his attention once more on the hooded individuals that surrounded him. He looked at the, with maliciousness swimming in his eyes and fixed them with a comradely gaze. "My friends" his nasal voice cut through the Machiavellian tension in the air, like a knife through butter. The figures all seemed to stiffen at the addressing, as if they had lifeless mannequins, that had just been animated by the sound of those few words. They seemed to return the attention the man had fixed them with, and the previously tense, but serene air now crackled and brimmed with anticipation. "The king is marching west from Jerusalem." his grave voice once more sonorously cut through the air setting all assembled even more on edge. With dissatisfaction he stated: "He shall be once more on english soil by the end of the year." A prevailing ambience of resentment enveloped the room, and it seemed so thick and oppressive that it was suprising that the people did not suffer asphyxiation under it. Once more with sadistic glee, the orator stated: "It is time to commence Operation 'Shah Mat'." This simple, to-the-point statement alleviated the air of malcontent, which gave way to one filled with demonic excitement, at the prospects set forth by the orator. "As soon as the king lands on english soil, we shall be there to welcome him, to embrace him." he spoke this with mock-affection poisoning his voice and made a gesture with his arms, as if he were embracing an old, beloved friend. Still, the depravity behind the actions was not lost on anyone. He closed his eyes, as if relishing the pretend embrace, before he opened them and looked confusedly at his imaginary opposite. "What? The king is dead?" he questioned with confusion, which would have sounded genuine had there not been a nefarious amusement contained within. He moved his arms away from the embrace, thus allowing his invisible opposite to fall to the floor at his feet, carelessly. He looked at the floor with content disgust and raised his hands toward the ceiling and stated sarcastically: "Long live the King!" He moved away from his spot and came closer to the seated and said conspiratorial: "It is time to commence 'Shah Mat', my friends. We have 10,000 men between us. The dark knights, who will be ably lead by my right-hand-man." With that he looked to the leather-clad man, who had a malevolent smirk, gracing his features. "We shall be unstoppable. Invincible. And we shall not allow a king, who has spent more time fighting the war of the Vatican, than fighting for his people back on english soil." An encompassing murmur of agreement joined the compelling voice of the man. Operation Shah Mat had commenced and failure was not an option for any in the room.


	29. Lost Souls

Chapter 29

_"She took my heart, I think she took my soul. With the moon I run. Far from the carnage of the fiery sun." Closer- Kings of Leon_

She leaned against the wooden wall of a tiny shack just on the outskirts of Nottingham Town. Her lungs were burning, as she had run with an agility like the devil was behind her. She was heaving with breaths and the cloth she normally wore to conceal her identity, which was normally a source of comfort, now simply felt asphyxiating. Simply obstructed her in the task of getting air, of breathing. She forcefully ripped her coverings off, uncaring of who was in proximity, who could discover her secret. Her nose and mouth were now free to inhale and exhale without barriers, but she still felt strangled. Because the thick textiles were not the only thing that had threatened to strangulate her. It was the icy ball of dread and sorrow that had settled in her stomach, that threatened to suffocate her and caused her eyes to sting ferociously. In an attempt to alleviate the tension generated by sorrow that had risen within her like an impenetrable mural, she let go off a heart-aching sob. The tears she had been trying to keep at bay escaped her and she started to cry helplessly, sorrowfully into the textile of the dress, that she had stolen from a clothing line that she had passed during her escape. Robin was dead!

The Sheriff had decreed, that he had put her and her uncle under house arrest, when they had arrived at Nottingham Castle, after the seemingly endless walk from Knighton Hall to the looming fortress. She had tried to appeal to the Sheriff, had tried to make him see that her uncle was not fit to live in the castle with his deteriorating health, as the constantly drafty halls of the castle would no doubt impact Sir Edward negatively. But, she had been disregarded by Vasey who had seemed delighted at her misfortunes. They had been taken to their chambers by the guards, but Eloise was disquiet, unable to simply remain complacently in her chambers. So, she had decided to wander the winding halls of the stony mausoleum. They were silent, and she felt as if all the life had been sucked out of the castle. All joy, and she had compared this place with purgatory. But then, she had heard a commotion shattering the ethereal quietude of the desolate halls. She had heard the sound of purposeful, male footsteps walking relentlessly toward a yet unknown target. The discord had been menacing in nature and contained the promise of evil intentions. This was only reiterated, as Vasey, and Guy walked past her in the direction of the courtyard, followed by some of their guards with two blond, undernourished children in tow. Thinking that this procision was all but virtuous, she had followed them to the outside of the castle. But before she could leave the gates of Nottingham castle and accompany Vasey and Guy to the main square of the settlement, she had been stopped by the two guards stationed at the gates. With this obstruction she had to helplessly watch as the two young children were sentenced to have one of their hands chopped off, as a punishment to stealing. Worst of all, their limbs would be hacked off infront of their mother, who was tied to a pole, taking the punishment for her children and cried distressedly for mercy. Robin had shown up and stationed on the hay roof of a house, he had tried to stop the children's punishment. Eloise had been relieved at the optimal timing of her friend, but as the mother had screamed for Robin to get closer and help her children, her relief gave way to dread and everything inside her screamed that Robin should not descend from the roof. She looked at him pleadingly, urging him not to get closer to Vasey and Guy, but him not sensing her gaze had obliged and moved toward Vasey and the children. He go captured, when it turned out that the scene had been a scheme crafted by the Sheriff and the mother was truly Vasey's sister in disguise. Eloise again had to helplessly watch, as Robin was hauled past her as a prisoner and completely at Vasey's mercy.

She had tried to look for him. She had searched the castle, though she had known that it would be almost impossible to find Robin and single-handedly save him. She hoped that his outlaws were nearby and had a plan to rescue their leader. Still, she could not be passive, while in the knowledge that Robin could be possibly suffering under Vasey and Guy's pitiless hands. So, she had wandered through the castle in search of him, and as expected her perusal had been fruitless for the first hours. But, as she had passed by a closed, wooden, heavily guarded door, she had heard the deep, hateful voice of Sir Guy of Gisborne throwing insults at the one he tormented now, and Robin's responding grunts, suggesting that he was helplessly struggling. Determination to help her friend had packed her and she had tried to divert Sir Guy's attention to the Shadow, who had conveniently come to the outlaw's rescue. Her plot had worked, since Guy had pursued her, in an attempt to eliminate both the Shadow and Robin Hood simultaneously. She had been chased by the leather-clad, brooding man throughout the whole castle, and had been succesful in creating a distraction, enabling Robin to escape, but then the Sheriff's mocking and cruel voice had announced to her, that Robin Hood had already died and that her efforts were in vain. Had come too late.

Remembering Vasey's cruel words, distress once more gripped her and she continued crying tears of sorrow for her friend, leaning her weary body against the dry wood of the walls. She had been unable to save him. She had failed him. She had failed England, for now who would protect it from Vasey's tyranny? She cried at the injustice and the cruel hand of destiny to have taken the only hope that had remained for their country in King Richard's absence. For taking the bravest and most honourable of men from the living realm. For allowing Vasey's depravity to triumph against Robin's virtue. She cried bitter tears at the loss of her friend. The man she had grown to admire and love like the brother, she never had been gifted with. She cried at the loss of her idol, her hope. She cried at the loss of the man she should have fallen in love with. She cried bitter tears at the fact that now Vasey would be unstoppable in his corrupt regime. But most of all, she cried at her loss of faith in the belief that all would work out in the end.

* * *

Robin ran through the streets of Nottingham Town, as if the devil was on his tail. Considering the situation, that was very well possible. He knew that Gisborne was following closely behind him. Was intent on exterminating him and was unwilling to once again accept defeat. Especially now, that Robin knew of the planned treachery. Especially now, that Robin was informed and Gisborne knew that he would try to stop them with all his powers. He knew that Vasey was thirsting, lusting for his blood, since he blamed the death of his sister, who had fallen into the pit filled with her reptiles and had perished under the poison they had injected into her, through their bite. So Robin ran. He ran with purpose and he ran with solid determination. He would stop Vasey's plans, he would prevent the murder of King Richard, would prevent the unjust demise of this man filled with integrity, filled with courage, who would with his return, reestablish the prosperity that had roamed the country, when Robin had been little. He remembered how affluent England had been, how jubilant its people under the solid, valiant rule of King Richard. King Richard's death would bring misery to England. Would cause his country to be completely forsaken by God, who would see the depravity of its sovereign and would avert his eyes ashamed. Vasey planned to rule in place of King Richard and Robin knew that the squalor that smothered Nottinghamshire would spread like a venomous infection, throughout the whole of England. The people would perish, unable to withstand the wretchedness of Vasey's rule, which would no longer seem temporary, but never-ending. They would be forever at the mercy, under the iron fist of those tyrrants. But Robin would not allow it. He would save England single-handedly, if necessary. Or he would die trying, because Robin would never be able to live with himself, if he did not risk everything, risk his life to prevent England's downfall.

Robin had reached the outskirts of Nottingham Town and he felt safer, less agitated, as he could not see Gisborne or any of the mindless Nottingham guards, closeby. He had come to a stop in front of the clothing lines, which drapped the streets dotted with fragile-looking, wooden shacks. Robin tried to catch his breath, but from behind the white blanket that concealed the home behind from his view, he heard the despondent sobbing of a woman. Robin furrowed his brows and once again he was reassured in his plans and determination to stop Vasey, who had caused an all-consuming despondency among the citizens of Nottinghamshire. He pushed the blanket to the side, wishing to console the woman, who had approached judging by the increasing volume of her sobs. And what he saw made his breath hitch. The woman who was sobbing so heartbrokenly was Eloise, and even though her cheeks were tear-stained, he still believed her to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her blue-eyes were shining with unshed tears and her fiery-red hair was unkempt and resembled a mane. She was wearing a simple dress, which was white, but covered with black patterns, with short sleeves, that completely revealed the outlaws' tag, that she wore devotedly. She turned around at the rustling sound of fabric and upon laying her eyes on him, her cornflower blue eyes widened in disbelief and her posture sagged and she exhaled shakily. She looked relieved at seeing him and undilutedly joyous. She smiled at him, a dazzling, bright smile and looked at him lovingly causing his heart to sped up in his chest. She ran toward him and embraced him tightly, he even stumbled back a bit at the impact, but hugged her back nonetheless. He immediately felt easier, the torment which had packed him since hearing Vasey's machievellian plans, vanishing temporarily. He felt her tip her head back, averting her gaze to the sky and exclaiming with a shaky voice: "Oh, thank god!" Her pure, explicit joy was infectious and he felt himself lift her up and carefreely swing her around. In response, she simply tightened her grip and laughed almost sobbingly. His worries had temporarily left his mind, as he embraced Eloise and inhaled her flowery scent, that now intermingled with her salty tears and the clean smell of soap, and buried his face into her soft red hair. Oh, how he adored her. He questioned jokingly: "Who died?" Eloise drew back slightly, still keeping him in her arms, as if she was afraid he would disappear in the next second. "You did. Vasey told me that you had died. That I had been too late." She looked up at him sorrowfully, though relief still lighted up her features. He chuckled indulgingly, while passing an appeasing hand over her red hair: "I'm afraid you won't get rid of me this easily." She laughed a bell-like peal of laughter and murmured: "I wouldn't have it any other way." She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed deeply, all tension leaving her body.

After moments of indulging in the soothing sensation of the embrace, Eloise questioned him how he had escaped. He told her that he had been able to access his bow through creating momentum by swinging to and fro. He had been able to access his bow and just as he was about to fall into the pit and had been able to sever the rope, he was stripped to by shooting one of the lances that had fallen, when he had tried to reach for his bow with his feet. He told her how he had climbed up the pit and had tried to escape, but at the same moment Vasey's sister had arrived, impeding his escape and mocking his failure. By an accident, she had fallen into the pit herself and before Robin could help her elude the snakes one had bitten her and injected the venom into her bloodstream and she had died with no antidote available. Robin, making use of Vasey's distraction caused by his grieving of his sister, had run from Nottingham Castle. He then told her of Operation 'Shah Mat'. He told her that Vasey was planning to murder King Richard with his army of 10,000 dark knights, led on by Gisborne, and he was planning to do this as soon as King Richard steps foot onto english soil.

She stared up at him disbelievingly at the treachery, that they had planned. But her disbelief and slight sorrow soon gave way to determined indignation: "We have to stop them!" she stated fiercely, tigerishly, with an obstinate look on her face that told Robin that she would be with him until the end, would fight Vasey and Gisborne until the end. He smiled affectionately at her and took her hand. He was starting to run in the direction of Sherwood Forest, when he felt her withdraw her hand. At the lack of contact, he turned around and fixed her with a confused gaze. Now was the time, wasn't it? Now was the time, where she would follow him into the forest. Now, she would be by his side. Now was the time when they would be together. "Where are we going?" she asked, her face alight with confusion. "To Sherwood Forest, of course." he stated in a matter-of-fact, slighty admonishing tone. "Robin... I can't." she looked at him unhappily. His loving joy dissipated and gave way to confusion and hurt. She had promised she would fight with him, by his side, they would stop Vasey and Gisborne together. Had she changed her opinion so quickly? "I can't go to the camp with you. My uncle is still at the castle and if I leave him behind, he will surely hang due to my disregard of the law." Realisation sunk in and spread like venom through his body, replacing the warm haze that had surrounded him with ice-cold dread. No, he could not allow her to return to Nottingham Castle, he would not let her return to the clutches of Vasey and Gisborne. He walked up to her, gripped her chin and looked deeply into her eyes: "Eloise, I have never asked you for much. But, I am begging you to come with me to Sherwood Forest right now, please." She fixed him with a sad, but determined gaze and shook her head. "I can't Robin. I won't abandon my uncle. Plus with a coup being planned, it is always useful to have a spy on the inside. I would be advantageously placed." Indignation rose within him at her wilfulness, and her blatant disregard for the danger Vasey and Gisborne imposed. His voice rose with anger: "Eloise, for once, please do not question me on this. I can not protect you, if you are within the walls of that foul palace." She simply kept looking at him and shook her head. Defeat and disappointment were starting to spread through Robin. Eloise would not leave her uncle and Robin knew that Sir Edward would not be able to live in the woods, due to his deteriorating health. Eloise was condemned to remain inside those walls. He closed his eyes and with defeat still drowning him, he leaned his forehead against hers and exhaled deeply. He felt her soft hands carressing his cheek, but at the moment not even her touch could appease his worry for her. Out of this worry, a new, all-consuming determination sprung. He would stop Vasey, for her sake if nothing else. He opened his eyes and stared at her intensely and whispered his thoughts to her: "I shall stop Vasey. I will protect King Richard. Once he has returned safely and sits upon his rightful throne, once more, we will be together." He saw surprise flash across her eyes at his indirect confession. He thought that he had also seen a glint conflict pass through her orbs and her faces contorted with confusion. She was about to respond to him, but he laid his finger on her lips and effectively silencing her. He looked at her affectionately and stated: "This is me saying yes." He gave her a last kiss on the cheek and ran off in the direction of Sherwood Forest, so quickly that he did not have time to see her reaction.

* * *

He was standing beside Gisborne in an armour of padded fabric and leather and he felt as if his breathing passages were being constricted by the strangulating nature of the attire. It was the council of nobles and he simply stood beside Gisborne feeling fatigued and spiritless at the blasé conversation of the lords. Another he could also feel, which was much more discomforting in nature was the dark, contemptful look that Eloise was fixing him with. She had always been so kind and congenial to him, when they had met at the outlaws' camp. She had always been so affectionate and friendly with everyone, so to see her looking at him with barely veiled disgust was frightening. But, Allan should have expected her hateful reception. He should have known that she would despise him and no longer see a friend in him, as soon as his treachery had been discovered. He remembered the way Robin and the rest of the outlaws had looked at him. Their looks had contained betrayed hurt, but what was mostly apparent was the hate and the disgust directed at him. He still remembered the expressions of the people he had grown to think of as friends. He remembered the pained and angry expressions of Much and Will, whom he had befriended. He remembered Djaq's knowing, yet despondent gaze. He remembered John's furious glower at him and burned into his memory was the spiteful and disappointed gaze of Robin. He had known they would react in this manner, when they discovered that Allan was responsible for the fact that Vasey's carts filled with money and riches would take an unprecendeted route and thus escape the outlaws. He knew they would not understand the fact, that Allan was tired of living in the forest. He was tired of constantly giving to the poor and always living in difficulty himself. He was tired of being selfless, helping others, before he helped himself. And Gisborne, as depraved as he was, had given him a way out.

He had escaped the hateful looks at the outlaws' camp and had come to the castle in hopes that he would not be regarded as a treacherous parasite within these walls. He had been employed as Gisborne's assistant and he supposed his fate could have been worse. Gisborne had stayed true to his word and had employed him, though he was no longer in the position of offering him information. Still, Gisborne employed him, perhaps out of pity, and Allan was thankful though he feared how he would fare as Gisborne's squire. When Eloise had found out she had looked at him with disappointment and sadness swimming in her blue orbs and Allan had felt sadness that another of his friends now was bound to hate him. But he should have known that he would not find support in her after having betrayed their cause. Now her cause. Her belief in the cause and in King Richard was almost stronger than Robin's, so he should have known that she would despise him. He raised his eyes to meet her gaze and he did see contempt flashing through her eyes. He saw betrayal, but he also saw confusion. She was questioning his reasons, was asking why he had betrayed them. He averted his gaze again and avoided her eyes.

He was on his way to the stable to saddle his and Gisborne's horses. He heard light footsteps behind him, pursuing him and at the sound he came to a halt. He knew without having to turn, that she had come after him. Had come to question him, confront him and he steeled himself for her hateful, harsh words before turning to her. She stood before him, with a confused, pained expression and asked him in a cold voice, drenched with hurt at his treachery: "Why? Why did you betray Robin? How could you betray England?" He shook his head, he did not want to reiterate his reasons. He knew she would never understand them, she was much too altruistic and compassionate, and much too hard-headed and set in her ways to understand that he wished comfort for himself now, that he was tired of daily risking his life for a cause that had started to loose its meaning, was loosing its meaning every second that King Richard did not return to England to restore his people's wellbeing. Her cold voice once more broke the silence, as she realised he would not answer her: "You always go with the highest bidder, Allan. You went with Robin, when he saved you from the gallows, thinking he could offer you the most comfort. But what Robin could offer you was not enough. So you went with Gisborne, who promised you all the riches, all the power you could desire. You went to Gisborne, allied yourself with him, to gain the most, emerge victorious. But the joke is on you. Because by going with Gisborne, by betraying Robin and England, you just lost your soul." she stated spitefully. He was tired of being accused. He was tired of being met with contempt and insult wherever he went. So he looked at her and stated with indignation: "And you lost yours, the moment you gave your heart to Gisborne." Her eyes widened in disbelief and she staggered back like he had just struck her. He coul see guilt and self-depracation swimming in her eyes. Her reaction to his statement was enough proof of his assumptions. Allan had always assumed that Eloise cared for Gisborne more than the others believed. Had always had suspicions, that she was not as indifferent to the brooding man, as Robin seemed intent to believe. This was enough proof. He fixed the flustered girl with a last, impassive gaze, turned and then stalked to the stables, leaving a speechless Eloise behind.


	30. Lovefilled Rejection

Chapter 30

_"And I've lost who I am. And I can't understand, why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love. Without love gone wrong. Lifeless words, Carry on."- Shattered, Trading Yesterday_

He had not talked to her for a week. He had not talked to her, since he had discovered her duplicity and had burned down her house in revenge. He had not talked to her, since she had been placed under house arrest by Vasey. He had barely seen her, and that was not surprising since the fortress she now inhabited was of an astounding size and had a vast number of twisting corridors, set up like a maze, which made it almost impossible to find someone or something you were looking for. Let alone cross paths by coincidence. Yet he could not shake the suspicion, that she was avoiding him, since he had surely frightened and imidated her the last time they had spoken. He supposed that he was avoiding her with equal vehemence. Her betrayal still pained him with just the same intensity, as when he had seen Hood exiting Knighton Hall. The sheer memory of her caused an agonizing hurt to course his body, as he thought of her treachery. He found himself questioning what had been real about her. He questioned if she had ever cared for him, or if from the beginning he had been made a fool by his affections. He feared that seeing her, gazing upon her would only magnify his pain, which was already quite unbearable. He had avoided her, just as she had avoided him. Yet the knowledge that she was so close-by daily agonized him, for his body, his treacherous body yearned for her proximity, for her touch. But he did not only long for her, he also wished to confront her. He wished to demand explanation for her treachery. Why she had betrayed him so callously. He still possessed a pathetic need to understand her actions, and he shouldn't. He should've branded her a traitor and should have proceeded to being indifferent to her, to what became of her. Yet he still found himself wanting to hear her explanation. He had not spoken to her for a week, not seen her in this time intervall, but she had still haunted his every thought. He cursed himself. He still wanted her.

He had just been dismissed by Vasey. He and Allan-A-Dale, his new squire were on their way to the stables, so they could saddle their horses and return to Locksley. The former outlaw had been residing in his home, since he had been shunned from the outlaws' company and had taken refuge in Vasey's side of the law. Guy had known that taking Allan as his squire would entail his constant company. Impulsively he had longed for the company of another, he had longed to possess another companion other than Vasey, but now he had grown weary and annoyed of the outlaw's constant, boisterous companionship. He was an introspective man by nature, and treasured his solitude and quietude surrounding him. So it was only natural, that he would have been annoyed at the constant chattering of the outlaw, who was no doubt used to this conduct through his interactions with the extoverted leader of the outlaws. Over the past few days, Allan had grown quieter, more solemn and satisfied Gisborne had realised, that Allan had perceived his introverted nature and would not force his boisterous babble on him, for fear of retribution. The former outlaw knew exactly what his master was capable of and did not wish to stand in the path of his rage.

The sky was darkening outside and you could see the shape of the crescent moon outside, as Gisborne and Allan walked through the dark, chilly corridors of Nottingham castle in silence, with purposeful strides. He was looking conspicuously at his surroundings, when his gaze stopped its perusal on the door, that he knew would lead to her chambers. He stopped so abruptly, that Allan started and almost stumbled when seeing that Gisborne had interrupted their quiet, purposeful routine and was now standing in the middle of the hall looking undecidedly and with a hint of longing at the closed, wooden door, behind which Eloise was located. He stood beside Gisborne patiently, as he waited for the brooding man to come to a decision. All Allan could see in his gaze was conflict and indecisiveness, as he seemed completely absorbed in his thoughts, having completely forgotten about the squire at his side. Allan felt uncomfortable standing beside Gisborne as he inwardly deliberated what to do next. His intense gaze at the door was craving and Allan thought that the normally impossing and menacing man, now looked quite vulnerable and he did not wish to see Gisborne in this state. He lighty clapped the Sheriff's right-hand-man on the shoulder and walked away after telling him, that he would be waiting in the stables.

This escaped Gisborne's perception, as he simply kept looking at the wooden door. He did not wish to see her, rationally he was repelled by her. Wanted to keep his distance. But his perfidious body called out to her, his every sense was on alert screaming at him to move closer, to go to her. He felt as if his mind was in a haze and that his actions were not his own, but that he was being controlled by something else, by his desire. Through the fog that had descended upon his rationality he registered that he was moving closer to the door. He became cognizant that his gloved hand was on the door knob and that he was turning it, thus gaining entrance to her room. He grasped that he now stood in her doorway and was gazing at her profile, as she sat before the fireplace and watched the roaring flames, her face illuminated the same way it had been, when she had come to dine in his home. Had all the happenings of that night been a lie, a means to manipulate him? He gazed upon her as she looked despondently at the flames, the melancholic glint always contained in her eyes more pronounced. He perceived that she had spied him out of the corner of her eyes and had risen in alarm. She looked at him with astonishement swimming in her sky-blue eyes, but then her features hardened and she looked at him with coldness. At seeing her indifference, he was shook out of his reverie and the haze that had befallen him retreated. His indignation at her returned and he was looking at her with an accusing gaze. Seeing the harding to his eyes, she recoiled slightly, yet still kept a prideful, neutral look on her face. Uncomfortable, stiffling silence descended upon them, as neither knew how to address the other. He did not know how to talk to her. He had longed to confront her for an entire week, but know his words failed him, as he did not know how to address her. Too much had passed between them. From their passionate and desirous interludes, to her realization of his cruelty, to his discovery of her duplicity. Too much had gone on between them and they were completely bare to each other. But he did not know how to address her in such a state of vulnerability and judging by her gaze she did not know either. They simply kept studying each other, as Guy took a step into her room and closed the heavy wooden door behind him. They were cut off from the world outside, all that remained was them and Eloise seemed to grasp these implications, because she took a small step toward him and her gaze revealed her pain at his behaviour, at his indifference, and later he would characterize it as urging, beseeching. She studied him and whatever she found caused her to break the silence with a soft voice: "What are you doing here?" Anger rose within him at the question. Anger at her seeming obliviousness, at her nonchalance. He retorted more maliciously: "What was Hood doing climbing out of your window?"

A flash of alarm passed through her eyes, but it was almost instantly gone. She looked at him with a blank face and stated, before turning from him and once more facing the fireplace: "I do not know what you are talking about, Sir Guy." Angrily, he stalked up to her and when he was standing behind her, he hissed menacingly in her ear: "Do not lie to me. You know better than to take me for a fool. I saw him coming out of your window, when I came to call on you in the afternoon. You were consorting with Hood, breaking the law. I simply wish to know why." She turned around and it was painfully obvious to him, that they were standing so close the tips of their noses were almost touching. She looked at him with an equally fierce gaze and stated through gritted teeth: "I have not consorted with outlaws. I do not know what you believe you saw, but I have never personally conversed with Hood. Is that the reason that you burned down my house, because you believe you saw something, because you were in a jealous rage?" He moved away from her, repelled by her blatant lying. He ran an agitated hand through his dark hair, before turning around to her and saying with menace coating his words: "How can you lie to me in that manner? I know what I saw. I know that you admire Hood, because of his supposed virtue, his self-sacrifice. I saw the way you gazed at him during the ambush at my home. I remember the way you so vehemently defended him." She kept her impassive gaze and stated with solemnity: "I have never denied that I admire Robin Hood." Jealous rage boiled within him and he moved closer to her, in an attempt to intimidate her, as he saw that she would continue in her praise of his rival: "I have never made it a secret that I value his work. He is an honourable man, who sacrificed all he had to help those in need. How could I not admire him? And knowing me the way that I believed you did, this should not come as a revelation to you." He exhaled heavily. Yes, it was not surprising that she admired the outlaw. He was a man, who had foolishly given up everything to dedicate his life to giving, to compassion. He knew she would admire him. "I have not had contact with Robin Hood, other than the times you have witnessed. I do not know what you saw that afternoon and I'm afraid I can not give you any explanation, because me and my uncle were not even there. Perhaps it was a burglar. Perhaps it was him, but I give you my word that I have not consorted with him." Guy wallowed in silent contemplation at her words, he moved his gaze toward her intent on finding any signs of dishonesty on her face, but she only stood there with an impassive look. "This is not the first time there have been allegations to your and your uncle's involvement with Hood." he stated raspily. "I know. But to my knowledge neither of us has ever proven these allegations true. These rumours that sprung from the mentorship my uncle exercised in Hood's youth. Has my uncle not again and again shown and confirmed his support to the Sheriff?"

She was looking at him with an urging expression and as he contemplated her words, he felt the painfully thin barriers that he had built slowly crumble and he looked at her, hope that he still did not truly welcome rising in his chest and he stated quietly: "I wish to believe you." She scoffed slightly at that and looked at him with a watery smile: "I want you to believe me as well. You do not know how I long that you had believed me before you burned down my home." He moved toward her and expressed his desire to her: "I need to know that you are on my side." She looked up at him startled, before lowering her gaze and looking confusedly at her feet. But he would have none of that, he wanted to see every emotion that would pass through her eyes, he needed this confirmation, he needed to know that she had been entirely truthful in her response. He needed to believe her. So he gripped her chin and gently raised her head, so that she was looking into his eyes. Seeing his vulnerable expression, her face crumpled and she whispered sorrowfully: "As long as you are on Vasey's side, I shall never truly support you." The truth was like a slap in the face and he exhaled shakily as the meaning of her words sunk into. He closed his eyes to surpress his rage and was about to walk away from her, when he felt the skin of her warm, delicate hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him with an unreadable gaze, that nonetheless made his breath hitch and caused his heart to pound in his chest. The emotion of her gaze was so raw and her sorrow so pure, that his breath quickened and his old desire for her came back, hitting him forcefully. "I know that there is another side to you. I know that underneath all of the hatred you have within you, you have the potential for kindness. I know that you are not as depraved and pitiless, as all others believe. I know that you regret all your sins. You are not inhertingly evil, you possess virtue as well." He leaned into her soothing touch and sighed inwardly, as she expressed her faith in him. He allowed himself to believe her words to be honest, allowed himself to believe that he was salvageable, that she could save him, that she could love him. And as she expressed her thoughts so freely, he allowed himself to express his vulnerabilty to her: "You bring out that side of me. I never shamed myself for my deeds before you came. I never longed for redemption, but that is all I wish for now. I wish for remittal of my sins. And I covet you. I long for you, every second of every day. I wish to be with you, to make you my wife. I desire your love." She was gazing at him, astonished at his confession, yet he still felt her silent suspire. She closed her eyes, as her shoulder slumped and as she opened them again she had averted her eyes from his and was looking at the floor with an intent he could read and which he did not value. He grabbed the hand, which she had still trained on his cheek, but which he felt going slack, which he felt would remove itself from his form, and he whispered: "Eloise. Please don't make me leave." His plea and his tone caused her features to contort with self-conflict. She tilted her head back, so that she was looking at the ceiling, looking at anything except him and shook her head. He stared at her with longing and gripped her chin, redirecting her gaze at him. He regretted the pain he saw swimming in her eyes, yet at the same time it caused his heart to accelerate even more and he stared at her with care and adoration. She whispered: "Please do not ask this of me. Not now." He felt dread pack him at her rejection and looked to the side, ashamed that he had appeared so vulnerable before her. Had bared himself almost completly to her. He turned from her and left the room, though everything in him was opposing his actions. Even though everything inside him longed to return to her, longed to defy her and as he felt her gaze on his back, he allowed himself to believe that she desired him to have defied her as well.


	31. Beat Inside Me

Chapter 31

**So this is a massive update, because I won't have time to update during the week and I was actually really excited to get the past four chapters out. This is the chapter, which I think many of you have been waiting for. So enjoy my naughty chipmunks.**

* * *

_"My love, leave yourself behind. Beat inside me, leave you blind."- My love, Sia _

She climbed through the window leading to her chambers at Nottingham Castle. The silvery, faint light of the moon illuminated her form and she scrambled to get inside safely, before one of the guards spotted and recognized her hooded form. Her house arrest had not been able to deter her from her duty as the Shadow and she had devotedly continued with her nightly wandering. She now only employed more caution, as she exited her chambers and reentered them. Thankfully her chambers were located quite closely to the ground and she was able to climb up through her window. This spared her from having to roam through the winding corridors of the fortresses, where every turn, every corner held the threat of discovery. She stood in her room and was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath. The escalade along the stony, slippery wall of the castle was exhausting and the adrenaline, which always gripped her, when she put on her mask and started her nightly route, was leaving her and giving way to exhaustion. She still had not taken off her mask and her hood and simply stood there, her hand trained on her stinging side, heaving with breath.

"You're really going to need to start concealing yourself better than that, if you are to continue with your practice." an amused male voice stated. Eloise felt paralyzed and her whole posture stiffened. Immediately she went to grab the dagger, which she kept on her belt and was prepared to take an offensive position. But she thought better, the individual behind her could call the alarm, alert the whole of the castle of her presence and she would be severly outnumbered and Robin and his men, if they even managed to come to her rescue, would not change that. As she thought of the fate that would befall her were she discovered, a shiver of dread coursed through her spine and she inadvertently remembered the pain, that Guy's poisoned dagger had induced, when he had stabbed her in the side with it. Eloise knew that the sensation of the poisoned dagger lodging in her side uncomfortably, would pale in comparison to what awaited her. She realized that she was still quite close to the window and she was agile and lithe. The window was her salvation, the window was her saviour. She felt an all-consuming, compelling need to climb out of it. She was fighting for her life and to assist her, adrenaline once more started spreading through her body. Just as she was about to take off, she felt strong arms enveloping her and holding her still. Panic consumed her and she started struggling against her captor's grip. No, she would not die. She would not go down without a fight. But he was holding her so tightly, that she saw no possibility to escape, her arms were constrained tightly against her sides and she could not move them. She heard him hissing in her ear: "Eloise. Stop it! It's Allan, I won't do anything." She felt herself going slack with defeat, not hearing his words. He would surely take her to Guy and Vasey, and she knew that she was not to expect any mercy from them. She was, after all, a traitor and law-breaker. She would hang, if she was lucky. But she knew that Vasey's distaste for her would propel him to prolong her agony for as long as possible. At the prospects which awaited her, she started trembling in Allan's arms and he sensing her distress tried to soothe her. "It's alright. Don't worry. I won't harm you." She barely registered his words, but at the blatant lie he told her, fierceness once more coursed through her and she turned around and he, seeing that she wished to address him, lowered her mask and the cloth on the lower portion of her face. Once free from the textile obstruction, she spat disdainfully: "You are not going to take me to Gisborne? Don't make me laugh. You betrayed Robin. I have no hopes for differentiated treatment." He looked at her, his large blue eyes holding a note of sadness.

He let go off her, but instead of running Eloise simply stood and looked at him. She did not why, because now was her opportunity. She could run now, but something compelled her to remain. She felt empathy coursing through her at the sight of the traitor in front of her, and so she stayed, something akin to hope for him rising to life in her chest. "I have known about the identity of the Shadow for a long time. I have not told Gisborne until now. I won't tell him." Her gaze softened, but she still looked upon him with distrust and wariness. He had lied to Robin, he had been duplicitous toward the outlaws, his friends, why should she believe a word out of his mouth? Still she wanted to believe him, for she had grown fond of him, like she had grown fond of all the other outlaws, when she had spent time at their camp. She sighed, shook her head and said almost in a whisper: "Why should I trust you, when you betrayed the others? Why should I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?" He looked even more despondent at her questioning and she felt slight pity and chagrin. "You don't have to believe me, you don't have to trust me, but I still won't reveal your secret." With that he turned around to leave, but now she felt compassion at seeing his slumped figure and she wished she could overcome her distrust and start trusting him, because here in the castle he was still the closest thing to Robin and the outlaws she had. She had not seen Robin for the past week and she missed her friend and she felt useless, like she had abandoned him, like she had only imagined their interactions. The only reminder, the only confirmation that she had truly allied herself with the outlaws was the wooden pendant, that she had tied higher up her arm, in an attempt to hide it from the watchful eyes in the castle. Even if Allan had betrayed the outlaws, he was still the closest thing she had to them within these walls. She recognized a need in him for support, surely he did not find it as Guy's squire, and she felt the same need. The need for friendship and companionship, since she felt she was alone in a pit of snake. Her uncle could not offer her, for he was sick and she felt so miserably lonely. "Why? Give me one reason why I should trust you Allan." Her urging voice stopped him in his tracks and he slowly spun around to face her. He kept his gaze on the ground and he mumbled: "Isabella. That maid you had. The one who was executed, because she got involved with us. I was fond of her and she in turn loved you. I wasn't able to save her, but I owe her to prevent harm from befalling you." At the mention of her maid, the old wound that had started to cauterize slowly, reopened and she leaned her head on her hand. God, how she missed Isabella and it seemed that even from her grave, the brave, blonde girl was protecting her. She felt conflicted. Allan had given her a reason, he had told her why she should trust him, but she still felt torn. She felt herself still holding on, almost stubbornly, to her distrust.

She looked up at the sandy-haired outlaw and his usual cheerful expression was replaced by one that was solemn, serious and expressed his desire for her trust. She looked at him and then in an almost accusatory tone asked: "Why then, if you were fond of her, are you working for her killers?" He kept looking at her, now almost impassively and retorted: "Why, if you loved her, did you fall in love with her killer?" And that question caused her guilt and self-hatred at being unable to despise Guy to return, like an unleashed beast set on vengeance. Her guilt threatened to overwhelm her and she moved toward the stool located closest to her and sat herself down, to give her exhausted body some respite. She exhaled shakily, as she was reminded of her treachery, her daily treachery, her daily disregard for Isabella's memory. She had unconsciously perceived that Allan was moving closer to her. She whispered, intent on no one but him to hear her confession: "I don't know. I just can't help it. I have tried to hate him so many times. I have tried to let go of my feelings, of him. And I am tired. I am so tired of it." He sighed warily and even though he said nothing in response to her confession, she could feel silent understanding radiating from him, and right now it was enough.

* * *

Sir Edward cracked open his eyes, the effort of lifting his lids, that felt as if lead was weighing them down, exhausting him. He awoke from slumber at the sensation of a cool cloth, moisturising his sweaty, feverish forehead. He felt delicate, soft hands brush his hair tenderly and he remembered the time his late wife had tended to him, when he had taken ill, few weeks after their nuptials. He had fallen in love with her then. He had fallen in love at seeing how devotedly she had cared for him, when he had been infirm. He remembered looking into her affectionate, warm hazel eyes and thinking himself the luckiest man alive, even if he had been feeling wretched due to his disease. Their marriage had been arranged and he had agreed due to his parent's insistence, but how could he have not loved the kind, altruistic woman, who had willingly devoted her life to him. Yet cruel destiny had taken her from him too soon. Had taken her from him, before they were able to build a life together. There had been so much promise for them, they could have been so happy, but her time had come too soon. He had tended to her, as diligently as she had to him, but his efforts, his exertion were in vain, for she passed away in her sleep, after enduring weeks under the disease that had devoured her beauty, and her spirit.

As Sir Edward opened his mind he was intently hoping, that her passing had been a cruel craft of his mind, that he had awoken from a long slumber and now that he opened his eyes, he would see Mary and her golden hair, glinting beautifully in the light of the candles. And he would tell her about his dream and she would laugh at him, assure him that she would never leave him and he would tell her he loved her. But as his eyes adjusted to the blinding light of the candle, he did not see golden hair, he saw fiery-red. The kind eyes he gazed into were not deep brown orbs, but a cornflower blue pair. It was not Mary, who was tending to him. He had not dreamed her demise. Sadness infiltrated him and he longed for his wife. His niece's brows furrowed, as if sensing his distress and she passed a comforting hand on the weathered skin of his cheeks. He felt slightly appeased, at least he still had Eloise. His niece, the one he had come to love like the child he and Mary had never gotten the chance of having. The charge he had been gifted with and who had filled the solitary void in him, that had raged within him, since the day he had buried Mary. He looked at the girl, who was tending to him tenderly, lovingly, and he felt gratitude fill him. God having bestowed her upon him, so that he could spend out his last days in her company was the amends for having taken Mary from him brutally. Eloise had given him so much, she had given him the love he had always longed for, the love of a daughter. And he. He would die, leave her. And leave her with nothing, would leave her distitute. He felt indignation directed at himself rise within him, as well as worry for Eloise. He needed to talk to her, she had given him so much. The least he could do was make sure, that she would be cared for, that she would know no hardship.

"Eloise" he croaked, suprised at the weakness in his voice, no doubt generated by its lack of use. Eloise shushed him gently: "Uncle, do not exert yourself. You are still too weak. Your fever has diminished slightly, but you are still very low on energy. Try to save your strength." he shook his head with the same obstination he had always seen in her and continued to adress her his voice growing more stable with each pasing vocable: "Eloise. I am dying" he saw her distressed and unaccepting gaze, and she shook her head sorrowfully. "My child, I am dying and no matter how much care you bestow on me, my destiny shall not change. You have given me so much joy, since you arrived in my life. You would have inherited Knighton Hall, if it still existed. But I will pass and leave you with nothing." She grabbed his hand, and kissed his knuckle and stated with vehemence: "No, you gave me everything. You gave me all the fatherly love and guidance I was deprived off as a child. You have given me more than enough and my only resent is that you shall leave me again so soon." he smiled lovingly at her and stated: "I shall still leave you with no means to fend for yourself. I want you to have a good life, Eloise. You deserve it. I want you to be cared for. I want to know that you have all the comfort you deserve. I need to know that you are happy. I wish for you to get married to a good man, who will care and cherish you." At that he thought of the leather-clad right-hand-man of the Sheriff. The last time he and Eloise had interacted it had not been pleasant, but he still knew that Sir Guy cared for his niece and he knew that he would care for her. He wished that Eloise would get over her stubbornness and marry the Lord of Locksley, who he knew would provide her with comfort and safety. The last thing he saw, when he fell into the embrace of slumber once more, was Eloise's pensive eyes.

* * *

She was leaning on the railing and she overlooked the courtyard. Her uncle was dying, and as the thought once more invaded her mind she hung her head sorrowfully. She resented the fact that she would loose her uncle so soon after having found him, but nonetheless she was thankful for the time she had spent with him and knew that she would always remember and grieve the man, who had been so kind, fatherly and understanding toward her. When he had stated that he was dying, he seemed at peace. Almost expectant at the prospect, like something was awaiting him as soon as he passed. Eloise had to think of his wife. His uncle had told her about the the kind Mary he had wed and how she had been taken from him too soon and how he had loved her and grieved her loss. She smiled sadly at the thought, her uncle would pass at peace, because he would be finally reunited with the woman he loved, after having been so cruelly separated for so long. She knew her aunt Mary was waiting for him, had been waiting for him all this time. Still this thought offered her no consolement and she selfishly wished to keep her uncle. She didn't want him to die, she still needed him. She sighed. Her uncle felt his death approaching and she knew that she could do nothing to impede fate. Still it did not stop her from wishing, desperately, that she had that power.

She looked despondently at the courtyard and the moving figures, which crossed it. Everything seemed so normal, routine had not changed, everything was going on normally even if her uncle was so gravelly ill. She was already grieving his loss, as if her body was already preparing her for the shock of mourning. And she did not want it, because she still felt a slight spark of hope warm her chest and she needed to hold onto that spark with all the vehemence she had. Perhaps she shouldn't, perhaps she should be preparing herself, if even her uncle himself had felt his death approaching. She felt the same anticipation she had felt before her father's demise. It was like a sixth sense. The sense of death. Like her uncle had gotten a look in his eyes, that had warned her of his impeding end. She should perhaps be thinking, planning her life, because her uncle was right, as soon as he passed she would be distitute. Knighton Hall and all the possessions her uncle had, had been annihilated. She would be left with no means to fend for herself and she should be already thinking how she would deal. But she couldn't, because she still stubbornly held onto her tiny flickering of hope, because planning how her life would be without her uncle was to final, like she had given up on him. She closed her eyes to dispel the thoughts of her uncle. She felt a light breeze carrying the scent of freshly-backed bread from the market place and she felt herself grow calmer.

Her serene state was broken when she heard pounding footsteps, whose sound was now so familiar to her, that she didn't even question who they belonged to anymore. She did not startle at the abrupt noise, and it was as if she had sensed his presence approaching her. The sound of his footsteps was accompanied by the discord of the hasty pounding of boots, whose owner was no doubt struggling to keep up with the brisk pace of Guy. She rationalized that it was Allan. Their footsteps, ringing through the corridor created a contradictory harmony that irritated her ear, but she still did not avert her fixed gaze from the courtyard, unwilling to have any company. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a posture which reflected her preference for solitude at the moment. But as usual Guy disregarded her silent signals, as the hubbub of footsteps ceased right behind her and gave way to his deep, baritone voice addressing her: "Eloise." She did not turn, nor acknowledge his presence in anyway, still he was not detered and said quietly to Allan: "You proceed. I shall follow shortly." She heard Allan scurrying off and his hasty retreat rang through the ethereal quietude of the stone halls. She heard Guy approaching her, still she kept silent and looked with a depressed air at the happenings on the courtyard. She watched as the almost indistinguishable figures bustled through the market just outside the gate.

Yet, she was still painfully aware of Guy's proximity to her. Every cell on her skin screaming like a siren at his closeness. "Something troubles you." he whispered and she felt his warm breath tickle the back of her neck and she was once again reminded how agonizingly close he was. Goosebumps rose on her skin and she attempted to supress a shiver. She wanted to get away, she was not in the mood for company. She needed to be by herself right now. She was troubled enough, she did not need Guy to cause her more internal disarray. She responded: "Yes. My uncle has taken ill. I fear I am no good company today, Sir Guy. Please excuse me." With that she went to leave, but before she could get any further, she felt Sir Guy's gentle grip keeping her in place, as he stared at her through his eyelashes. She looked at him unhappily, still she moved no further. "I regret Sir Edward taking ill. But I still wish for your company." he mumbled. "Sir Guy" she stated in a last attempt, as she felt her resistance leave her and felt that she was so close to surrendering to him: "I need to tend to my uncle." She looked up at him and saw that he was fixing her with an intense burning gaze. She turned her head from him and mumbled: "I need to think." Both of them knew that they had moved on from the topic of Sir Edward and that she wa now talking about something entirely different. That she was talking about them. "Stop thinking. Come home to me!" he raised his voice and his grip on her arm tightened, showing his unwillingness to let her go. She turned around and stated in an accusatory tone: "You burned my home to the ground!" He let go of her arm and turned around, exasperated at her wilfulness. "And you do not know how much I regret it. You do not know how much I wish to take back what I did." he shook his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "If I could show you that side to me that wishes to build a home, not burn it down." She scoffed and said softly: "I've seen it." He looked at her growing indignation passing through his grey blue orbs: "Why do you always reject it then? Why are you so intent to focus on the depraved side of me?" She hung her head and stated warily: "My uncle is dying, Guy. I shall be left with no means to fend for myself. I am in such a precarious, almost ridiculuous situation. Suspected of treachery and treason to the crown." He moved closer to her with quick strides and he had a predatory glint in his eyes "I thought I had lost you. When I believed that you had betrayed me with Hood, I thought I would never see you again. I though that I would never be able to... kiss you." he whispered huskily and his face moved closer to hers. She longed to give in, but right now she was already grieving for her uncle, her mind filled with her mourning thoughts and that is all she could with right now, all she had capacity for. So she couldn't give in, because this would cause her even more conflict, even more disarray and she could't deal with it, so she turned her head to the side and pleaded: "Please leave me be, at least for now." He tightened his jaw, disappointment coursing through his eyes: "Very well, but I look forward to finishing this conversation." Just as he was about to turn around and depart, she saw Much's worried gaze over his broad shoulders, as he ascended the stairs hooded. She rationalized that it was another outlaw ambush, which would be cut disappointingly short, if she did not prevent Guy from turning and spotting the outlaws. "Guy" she exclaimed, her voice frantic. He turned back to her, his brow furrowed and Eloise did the first thing that came into her mind. She laced her arms around his neck, buried her fingers in his black hair and pulled his face closer to hers, before capturing his lips in a kiss.

She knew she was supposed to keep her eyes open to see whether the outlaws had been able to disfruit of her distraction. But at the sensation of his lips on hers, her mind went completely blank and all she could perceive was the warmth of his skin and the pressure of his lips on hers, and the burning sensation, which the contact had caused. It was not painful, but almost deranging and all her sense were on alert demanding more. She closed her eyes and forgot that anything besides Guy and his lips on hers existed and she tightened her grip on his hair, as her desire for the brooding man threatened to overwhelm her. For a few seconds he was unresponsive beneath her touch, having been caught unaware, unprepared, but then he groaned wantonly, the vibrations of this sound only increasing her desire, and snaked his arms around her to pull her body flush against his. He responded to the kiss and his lips now moved beneath hers, promiscously almost desperately, as if he wanted to eat her. At the increased bodily contact and his responsiveness to her, the fire that had been awakened within her by the feel of his lips became a roaring inferno and she moaned shamelessly into the kiss. He used the opportunity of her slightly parted lips to capture her bottom lip between his and kiss it. She moved closer to him in response, desperate for more. They were now standing so closely together, that it was impossible to distinguish, where she ended and he started. They were so close, as if they wanted to merge into one. She tilted her head, to increase her access and one of her hands left his hair and moved to his left cheek, so that she could get better leverage. The hall was completely silent, except for their contended moans and the sound of their heavy breathing. He once more took her bottom lip between his and sucked slightly on it. The sensation caused her to become dizzy and she once more moaned into his mouth. This time he exploited the parting of her lips to snake his tongue into her mouth and at the sensation of their touching tongues, he gripped her even tighter, almost strangulating her with the tight grip he had around her waist. But she did not care, since she felt nothing except the sensations of their kiss, the heat his body exuded, and the erratic pounding of her heart. She had forgotten to breathe.

But when the need for oxygen became too great to ignore and her lugs screamed in agony, she regretfully drew back and gasped for breath. Her chest was heaving with breath, but she still kept her arms around Guy's neck, unwilling to leave their embrace. His pupils were dilated and his lips were slightly parted and at the emotions in his eyes, she tilted her head back. She felt so sensitive, a state no doubt provoked by their kiss. Seeing his passionate expression was too much for her, as her desire threatened to overwhelm her, smother her, since she still had to slow her galloping heart. She could hear his equally heavy breathing, but kept her eyes on the ceiling above them, inadvertently exposing her slender neck to Guy. She felt him press soft kisses to the column of her neck, close to her jaw, beneath her ear, and all those brief moments of contact were like shocks to her oversensitive body and she shivered, as she felt his warm breath on her. She tilted her head to the side, wanting to give him a greater area to bestow his kisses upon, and then Robin's hurt gaze came into her line of vision. She immediately came back to herself and pushed on Guy's chest in an attempt to distance them, though her treacherous body was screaming its opposition. Her mind and her desires were fighting an epic battle. She knew she should not be kissing him, especially due to the fact that he was planning to commit treason. He was scheming to kill the man she had been fighting for her whole life. He wanted to kill England. Cold betrayal settled into her stomach and she pushed on him with more force. He ceased his ministrations and looked at her questioningly. She ducked out of his arms and moved away from him with surprising agility, considering the fact that she longed to be in his arms and she felt boneless, as if her legs had turned liquid. "This was a mistake" she said and made to leave. He packed her by the arm and looked at her with anger and hurt in his eyes and stated: "This was the most perfect thing to ever happen. It wasn't a mistake." She shook her head, she had kissed her enemy. The man she was fighting against. A man, who desired nothing more than power and affluence and thus would never choose her over his plans. Just like she could not choose him over Robin Hood, over King Richard. For a short moment, she had imagined that they were other people, that they weren't so intricately interweaved in politics, weren't on completely different sides. For a short moment he had just been Guy, not the right-hand-man of the Sheriff, and she had just been Eloise, not the Shadow and one of Robin Hood's most devoted outlaws. She had been blissfully ignorant while they had kissed. And she longed to return to that state of unawareness, but she could no longer deluded herself. They could no longer deluded themselves.

"I have mislead you. Forgive me." With that she turned from him, but was stopped from leaving when she heard his dark chuckles sound behind her and he said in an indulging tone: "You are misleading yourself. I know, I've done it. I told myself I didn't need you. That other things would satisfy me. Politics, power, but here we are." She felt a compelling need to turn around, but at this moment she could not ponder the meaning of his words. She did not want to, because right now everything was black and white, and she could not venture into the different tones of grey. It was too complicated, especially when she was in such a state. So she simply chose to ignore anything that did not pertain to the obstacles between them, to their different goals, and walked away.

* * *

***Facepalms* God, Eloise. When Guy gives you a hot-crazy-sex-snog you don't walk away right after. No... you stay! I hope I wrote the kiss well and that you guys enjoyed and I could do it justice. Please tell me what you thought about this chapter and the last few. I hope you guys review. Again I really enjoy reviews of any shape, form or size: Long and detailed, short and to-the-point (though the former is of course preferable) Please review everyone and let me know how I am doing and what you thought! **


	32. Green Light in My Eyes

Chapter 32

_"Now there's green light in my eyes and my lover on my mind. And I'll sing from the piano, tear my yellow dress and cry and cry and cry over the love of you."- Over the love, florence+ the machine_

"Why did you kiss him?" This was the question that greeted her in the dark of night, as she dismounted Lark. Robin had been able to save her faithful stead, before the flames had spread to the stables at Knighton Hall and Eloise had been so thankful for it. She had been overjoyed, when Robin had returned Lark into her possession and had embraced him squealing like a silly child. Robin had simply gazed down upon her with his usual cheeky, affectionate grin he always bestowed her. But now he only looked at her with accusation and hurt swimming in his forest green eyes. She sighed inwardly, she had come to meet him at their meadow in the heart of Sherwood Forest. She knew he had wanted to talk to her, when she had passed by him in the corridor of Nottingham castle, while she was walking away from Guy and he had looked at her with hurt at the passionate kiss he had witnessed. She approached him silently and sat beside him on the moist grass, not mindful of her clothing. "I had to create a distraction, otherwise he would have found you and killed you. He was about to turn around and see Much. He would have driven his sword through him." "But why kiss him?" he asked as his face contorted with agony and his word coated with distressed jealousy. She looked at him and stated honestly: "It was the first thing that came to my mind." He studied her, but then dropped his gaze and stared at his feet in sadness. She looked at him sadly. She had not meant to hurt Robin. She loved him like a brother, he was her best friend, her idol. She had not meant to hurt him, but- and she cursed herself for this- she could not grow to resent the kiss she had shared with Guy. Could not resent it, when their forms, their lips had fit so perfectly together. Only the memory caused arousal to arise within her and she laid back on the cool grass, and the cool dew drops managed to somewhat cool down the fire that had once more arisen in her stomach. She knew he cared for her. She knew he wanted to be with her, she would have had to be completely blind to not recognize his affections, especially after he had revealed his plans to her, what he hoped for after he had managed to stop Vasey and his nefarious plans and safely reinstate King Richard on the throne. She turned her head sideways and studied the still-hurt outlaw with a studying gaze. Her uncle had talked to her about marriage, he had expressed his wishes that she would wed a good, kind man, who would care for her. She knew of her uncle's admiration for the outlaw. His admiration for Robin's selflessness and sacrifice, his constant kind deeds. Surely her uncle had been talking about a man like Robin, or even the outlaw himself. Marrying Robin would not be the worst fate to befall her. They were already friends, he cared for her, and she did treasure him and his company. Her marriage would surely be better than her parents, her father's cold indifference had prevented them from even developing kinship and friendhsip between each other. Surely she could grow to love him, she could forget Guy, especially when destiny was clearly revealing the future to her. It would either end with Guy hanging from his neck, or her hanging from her neck, as she was willing to sacrifice her life for the protection of King Richard. What she felt toward Guy would never go anywhere and as she thought about the gruesome destiny that awaited either of them, tears welled in her eyes. She tried to stop them following, so she closed her eyes tightly. But as she once more lifted her lids, one did make its track across her right cheek, down her neck.

She put her hands on Robin's and the contact caused the outlaw's gaze to snap to her and he regarded her questioningly. She was looking at him, trying to supress her sorrow and whatever he read in her gaze, caused his eyes to soften and he laid down beside her. She shifted so that she was now lying on her side, face-to-face with Robin, who had also shifted and was looking at her with a soft gaze. She moved closer to him and looked him in his green eyes, intently wishing they were grey with hints of airy blue. Oh, how she wished that it was Guy lying beside her on the meadow, the stars above, which covered the black sky with light dots, illuminating them. The air around them crackling with promise. She put her hand on Robin's shoulder and she felt his face coming closer and closer to her own and she could sense his intent and it distressed her, because kissing Robin felt like the ultimate betrayal to Guy. She was already a traitor to him, she had alread stolen from him, lied to his face, broken the laws he had vowed to uphold. Still her kissing Robin felt wretched and she knew that she would never be able to forgive herself if she betrayed Guy in this manner. So she lowered her face and leaned it against his chest. She inhaled Robin's scent. He always smelled of the woods, of the pinenuts and the leaves on the trees. The scent soothed her and she was submerged into it, as Robin had enveloped her with his arms and he rested his chin on the top of her head. The presence of her friend managed to calm the inner disarray that was storming within her and she felt more appeased. In his embrace, her eyelids grew heavier and she succumbed to sleep.

* * *

"I hate that you have to return to that wretched place." he once again said through gritted teeth. She was lying on her back, surrounded by green grass, her hair unkempt from sleep. She gazed up at him sleepily and smiled indulgingly at him, before she stretched herself in an attempt to awaken further. She sat up and looked at him with an amused gaze: "I know. You have told me already five times only this morning." He watched her, how natural she looked to have just awoken, how the innocence of her beauty had been enhanced and he felt a spike of desire spark across him. She was brushing her fingers through her hair and attempting to domesticate her wild mane of red hair. He moved toward her and put his hand upon her cheek, lightly stroking her cheekbone. She looked at him at the contact and smiled sweetly. He could not help, but wish that this became a routine for them. That he would awaken every morning with her by his side, holding her. But she was bound to return to the castle. To Vasey, to Gisborne. At the thought of the leather-clad knight, his jaw tightened and furious jealousy coursed through his veins. He was a traitor, yet he had received the fortune of kissing Eloise. But Robin calmed his frenzy with the thought that it was him she would be with. That as soon as King Richard had arrived back safely on English soil, that Gisborne would pay for his crimes and hang for his depravity, while he would wed Eloise. They would not waste another thought on Vasey, on Gisborne as soon as the two of them had been justly branded traitors to the crown. Her soft voice broke him out of his musings: "I have to leave now Robin. And before you say anything, I know that you loathe having me return to the fortress, but I have to tend to my uncle." He sighed inwardly at the mention of his old friend and former mentor and grew worried. Eloise had told him that a serious ailment had gripped Sir Edward and that the illness was having a strong impact on the already fragile and weathered body of his friend. "How is he?" he questioned softly with worry colouring his tone. "Prepared to die." she answered him and he could see undiluted sadness in her cornflower-blue eyes. He also felt grieved at the state his old friend, the one who had guided him after his father's untimely death, the one who had offered him unwavering support. She stood and walked over to her horse. He followed her and assisted her mounting Lark. He smiled sadly at her and she returned his melancholy grin before nudging her horse in the side and riding off to Nottingham Castle.

He was walking back to the outlaws' camp when he heard Gisborne's booming voice disturb the serenity of the forest: "Come out. Wherever you are. I am Lord of Locksley. You need not worry." Indignation gripped him at Gisborne's claim. He knew that Locksley was currently under his tyrranous rule, but it still stung him that he had lost his lands to the man, who had been his life-long rival. It angered him that Gisborne would consider himself the rightful ruler of Locksley, when the lands had always belonged to him by birth right. He moved closer to the source of Gisborne's voice and he saw the leather-clad man look around him searchingly, before seemingly giving up on something and riding off. He saw the frame of a young boy, aiming his bow and arrow at Gisborne. He felt amusement rise within him at the scene, but he feared the boy would not truly injure the brooding man and would only reveal his location and get himself in trouble. So he put a fatherly hand on his shoulder and said in a placating tone: "Now, now. Even if I would enjoy nothing more than shooting Gisborne myself, I don't truly think this is a good idea." the boy whirled around and now trained his arrow on him. He smiled slightly and held his hand up in a placating gesture. He recognized the boy, he was a stable boy at Clun Village. Robin told him of his assumptions and asked the boy for his name. The boy still held him at arrow-point and eyed him with suspicion, but he still answered: "Daniel. My name is Daniel." "I see. Well, I am Robin Hood." Robin stated congenially. At this confession the boy's eyes widened and his suspicious glare was replaced by a wide-eyed look of astonishment and awe. He lowered his bow and at seeing that he had won the boy's cooperation he asked him, what had occured previous to his arrival. Daniel relayed the whole tale to him. He told him how he had played with his friends in Sherwood Forest and they had stumbled upon Gisborne shooting arrows at a prisoner. Yet the man had not been hurt, the arrows had not pierced him. He grew contemplative at that. He concluded that Gisborne was trying out a new armour, one that seemed impenetrable in nature and would render him invincible. No doubt a useful tool, when carrying out Operation 'Shah Mat'. Robin felt worry settle into his gut. An invincible armour was definitely going to make things more difficult for him. According to Daniel, the prisoner had remained well until Gisborne had ordered the man killed. At seeing the gruesome scene, the boys had screamed and revealed their location. Gisborne, disregarding the fact that they were helpless children, had ruthlessly pursued them and captured Daniel's friends. The boy desolately told him, how he had run and abandoned his gang. Robin tried to console the boy, while assuring him that he would rescue his friends. He would use the opportunity to find out a little more about Gisborne's scheme.

He had shot his arrow through the window that he knew lead to her chambers, where she was no doubt now tending to her uncle. He knew she would get his message and without fail, a few minutes later he saw her approach him, walking briskly through the market place. She stationed herself beside him and without gazing upon him, she said: "I have a few minutes. My guard took a break. Speak quickly." he complied and he relayed to her what Daniel had told him. When he told her of the impenetrable armour that Guy had commisioned for the black knight, her gaze grew alarmed. He told her that he had gone to Locksley and had stolen the black diamonds, the brooding man would have used to pay the armour with. But he also told her, that Guy had apprehended Daniel and was keeping him hostage and would kill the boy, if Robin did not return his diamonds to him. He gaze grew alarmed and she told him that she would help. Robin had to roll his eyes slightly at her over-eagerness, when she had not even considered the situation, but she was steadfast and told him of her plan. She would go to Locksley Manor tonight. She would need a pass to exit the castle, carrying Vaseys official seal signifying his allowance of her going. She would fashion the pass, so that it would also decree that Gisborne was to bring Daniel to Nottingham Castle, so that Vasey could question him. On their way, Robin and his outlaws were to intercept Gisborne and the boy and free him from the brooding man's clutches. Robin had to admit that it was a good plan, but he worried over Eloise and he did not want her too close to Gisborne. But she had that determined glint in her eyes and her features were set in that obstinate look. He knew she would not let him bring her off her plans. "That's why I'm in the castle. So I can help with situations like these." she smiled mischieviously and walked from him toward her armoured guard, who had just returned from his break.

* * *

Vasey was staring out at the star-lit sky with a contemplative look on his face. Despite their minor set-back today, Operation 'Shah Mat' was coming along well. The armours that he and Gisborne had commesioned were bound to ensure their victory. After all, who could survive ten thousand heavily armoured guards. He thought about his plans, and thought of the consequences they would bring. He did not truly hate King Richard, he supposed. Not like Guy of Gisborne or some of the other black knights, who had a personal vendetta against their sovereign. They despised him for his constant absence from England. They despised him for fighting in the churches' interest and disregarding England's prosperity in the process. Vasey did not really care about that. The only reason that King Richard Lionheart aggravated him was due to the fact, that he was an obstacle, a hidrance to his ascent to power. Killing King Richard would give him and Prince John free reign to rule England to their satisfaction. Vasey would be an unparalled leader alongside the sovereign he had sworn fealty to, who would make him a very wealthy and influential man. Vasey delighted himself at his plans and at the prospect of unlimited wealth being constantly at his reach.

A knock on the door broke him out of his avaricious thoughts and he turned around and prompted the caller to enter. Lady Eloise opened the door and walked up to him with a piece of parchment, clutched in her hand. He was slightly surprised at the lateness of her visit, but his annoyance at her presence overrode his surprise. Yet, he schooled his features in an impassive look and gazed upon the girl, slight distaste colouring his glare. "To what do I owe the honour, Lady Eloise?" he questioned her in a tone, that made it abundantly clear that her intrusion was not at all welcome. She looked at him and in a soft tone stated: "I wish for you to sign this pass, my lord. I wish to go out and can only do so with your permission." He let his confusion show on his features and questioned her what caused her to wish to go out at this hour. She glanced to the side uncomfortably and stated: "I wish to visit Guy." His lips twisted in a mocking smirk and he walked up to her and took the neatly-written parchment off her hands. He looked at her attire, a silky, figure-accentuating, cornflower-blue dress that was concealed beneath her cloak. He came closer to her and noted that her naturally flowery scent had been slightly enhanced. He looked at her with distaste blatantly apparent on his features and moved toward his table. The little leper wished to seduce Gisborne. He felt indignation rise within him at her plans. She was an unnecessary distraction for his right-hand-man, she was an annoying diversion of the brooding man's attention. He had seen how Eloise had led Gisborne on, had caused him to become a pathetic, snivelling creature, who acted to earn her admiration and to have her pretty blue eyes gaze at him appreciatively. Gisborne's discovery of her duplicity had not come at a better time. He had grown resentful toward the girl and he had become severe with her. He knew that Gisborne was now dedicating himself completely to their plans, and he no longer viewed her as a distraction. But the leper wanted to once again provoke Gisborne. Was probably wanting of his attentions for her own self-gratification. The witch wanted to once more lure the brooding man into her enchantment. And Vasey knew that it was possible for Gisborne to return to his old ways, because he still felt affection toward the leper. Although this worry was in his mind, Vasey still signed the pass. He knew Gisborne was in a worse mood than usual due to the humiliation he had once again endured under Hood and the young boy they now held hostage. He knew Gisborne was too angry and his wrath would only increase at seeing the cheek of the girl, who had betrayed him. He poured the wax on the pass and pressed his ring into it. He only looked at her and not at the parchment he was sealing and stated in a matter-of-fact tone: "If it was me, I would slap you in your fickle little face." her eyes shined with indignation and anger at his comment, but she held her tongue, took the parchment from him and exited his study after thanking tersely.

* * *

She gave her cloak to the servant that had escorted her to the main hall, where Guy was now located. She flattened her dress and took slow, almost hesitant steps toward the man, whom she had felt such desire with yesterday. She did not know how she would react to him. She did not know how she would address him, how he would receive her after she had walked away from him once more.

Any thought was extinguished from her mind, when the Lord of Locksley came into her view. He was getting an armour fitted, it was no doubt the armour Robin had told her of just a few hours ago. The armour that would make him and his black knights invincible and no doubt meant the demise of King Richard. Again any thought was erased from her mind, as she looked upon the half-naked man, who was busy fitting a piece of carefully crafted, shining steel to his lower arm, while his servant adjusted the armour at his chins. She stood there, feeling flustered and staring unashamedly at the strong, masculine naked torso of Guy. She felt desire grip her again, as tantalizing warmth spread once more through her body. She had seen him bare-chested before, but she had been tending to him that day and her worry had partially clouded her perception, though she remembered that she had become similarly discomposed that day. The light of the candles was throwing flickering shadows across his bared skin and she could not help but think that it was the most glorious and handsome sight she had ever seen. She took in his bare chest and felt breathless, her intent scrutiny was only interrupted when he addressed her: "Eloise." he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, descending from the small podium which he had been standing on while getting his armour fixed. She raised her gaze and was suprised to see that he was watching her with an impassive, almost cold look and she furrowed her brows in confusion, yet her eyes kept flickering from his chest to his face. She approached him and greeted him quietly: "What are you doing here?" he questioned in a disinterested tone of voice. She felt hurt at his indifference, no doubt generated by her continuous rejection of him and looked at him, remarking: "You are angry at me." Seeing her despondent gaze, a flicker passed through Guy's eyes, but it was quickly gone and he once more returned his neutral gaze on her. He said: "Don't overestimate yourself. I don't feel anger. I feel tired. I never made a secret of my feelings, but I have grown tired of constantly pursuing you. I have other interests in mind, besides you. I shall start to pursue them instead, as I have neglected them over the past few months."

She looked up at him hurt. This is what she wanted wasn't it? She had wanted him to leave her be. She had wanted to distance herself from him, distance herself from the effect he had on her. But she could not supress, nor deny the feeling of dread that had sunk into her gut, as he had told her that he would no longer care for her. She looked down and said in a despondent voice: "I understand. I am sorry that at this moment, I can not offer you what you wish, but I still come here with the intent of offering my friendship." She held out her hand and looked at him pleadingly. At her offer, something seemed to shift in Guy's gaze and he smiled down darkly at her, before lowering his head closer to hers and whispering into her ear: "What is it you truly want, Eloise?" she shivered at the feeling of his breath on the shell of her ear and grew breathless at the sensation, as well as at the expectant tone that had now creeped into his words. She felt divided, on one hand she simply longed to give in to Guy, to surrender to him. Yet at the other hand she was painfully aware of her responsibilities, where her loyalties lay. She felt him take her outstretched hand and felt his burning gaze on her, as he looked at her sideways, his head tilted, him studying her profile intently. Her chest was heaving with breaths, as she struggled to control her galloping heart at his proximity. She was starting not to care. Where her loyalties lay was starting not to matter to her. Because all that mattered right now was the man, who was stood before her, who had awakened an ardour within her, that agonized her, but that was so euphoric simultaneously, the she wished it would never stop. But she couldn't, she had responsibilities and once more she cursed that she was not someone else. A woman, who could simply overlook and turn a blind eye to his machiavellian occupation. She withdrew her hand and saw that his outstretched hand had fisted and she looked at him and stated honestly, for she no longer knew what she truly wanted: "I don't know." His eyes darkened and his nostris flared. He was looking down at her with disappointment and wrath storming within his eyes. He was shaking and she was unsure if his anger was truly the cause of it, or if it was not due to longing, for her body ached similarly at his absence. Before she could truly grow afraid of his murderous glare, the guard who had accompanied her entered and told Guy that Sheriff Vasey was expecting him and his hostage at Nottingham Castle. She was thankful for the interruption and she hastily grabbed her cloak and moved out of the hall. Robin would no doubt rescue the boy, she would ride quickly to the castle, for she was intent to escape Sir Guy's presence, for she felt that the dark-haired man was furious at her.


	33. Weighed Down

Chapter 33

**This is the longest chapter that I wrote. I kind of used the plot line from the season 2 episode "Booby and the beast", but I reformed it. I hope you guys enjoy. Please read and review and tell me what you think. As you can see things are starting to escalate. **

** - thank you for reviewing and I am glad you enjoy my story. About the studying haven't we all been there? ;D. I'll tell ya a secret. I haven't watched all the episodes from Robin Hood BBC either, most of them but not all (Psst!) I am glad it still makes sense to you and I hope that once you do watch the series, that you won't think I made anyone OOC. Yes Richard Armitage is hot**

* * *

_"I was a heavy heart to carry. My beloved was weighed down. My arms around his neck. My fingers laced to crown."- Heavy in your arms, Florence+ The Machine_

Gisborne was standing at his side and both of them were sporting victorious, self-satisfied grins as they stared at his throne room, that looked completely transformed. The hall was no longer empty and appeared endless with the vast void of unfilled space. His throne, which always loomed in the distance, as a constant reminder of his power, was no longer solitary in the alcove. Now the long, usually bare hall was filled with gambling tables. Every game existant was represented in his hall, and the casino he had fashioned fulfilled any whim a gambler could possibly possess. His hall was no longer dark and the atmosphere was no longer stuffy, but filled with cheer and excitement. The hall was brightly illuminated and seemed inviting and non-threatening. The perfect atmosphere to lure a game-addicted imbecile and strip him of all his gold. He had invited Count Frederick of Bavaria to Nottingham. The Count was infamous for his wealth and his fixation on games of luck. Vasey thought him to be another one of those asinine nobles, who had too much money for their own good, and without a purpose and a function would waste their wealth. Now Vasey couldn't have that, especially if he so needed some gold to pay the Black Knights, and Count Frederick's would definitely serve. Yes, Vasey had invited Count Frederick to Nottinghamshire and would exploit his gambling weakness. After all, the house always wins! And if luck proved reluctant, he would give it a helping hand. He had fashioned special dices, knowing that Count Frederick's favourite game was 'Dice'. Those black, ominous looking dices would always roll in their favour and seemed slightly foreshadowing. Vasey knew fortune to be on their side concerning Operation 'Shah Mat', if not he would orchestrate it in such a manner that good fortunes would never leave their side.

He and Gisborne moved toward the 'dice' table and Vasey grinned maliciously, looking over the game that would bring him so much profit. He looked at the entire hall. Every game the Count could wish for was present. The female servants were wearing alluring, figure-hugging attires and were serving his best ale. There was no way that Count Frederick would not enjoy this atmosphere and forget his inhibitions and the more the Count was intoxicated and distracted the better. But Vasey was a man, who enjoyed taking every precaution necessary. He did not solely rely on the Count's inability to control himself in face of the games and the pretty servants. Vasey thought it was necessary to have another distraction for the good Count and that is where Lady Eloise would come in. Vasey had summoned her to his hall, and once she arrived he would charge her with the task of keeping the Count distracted and satisfied. He would tell her to make sure that the Count's visit was as comfortable as possible. He knew she would loathe the idea and feel humiliated and offended, she was after all so headstrong and independent, but Vasey knew that due to the precarious situation her uncle was in, she would not deny him after some of his persuasion. Vasey delighted himself at his plan. He would be able to cause the annoying leper some exasperation and humiliation by parading her like a pretty jewel infront of the Count, while he and Gisborne stripped the German of his money. And Vasey knew it would work. One thing he had to admit was that the leper was quite pleasant to look at with her fiery-red hair, her deep blue eyes, and her creamy skin. He knew that if he got the leper into some provocative clothing that the Count would not be able to take his eyes off her and that would serve Vasey very well.

Talking about the leper, he heard light footsteps coming in his direction and he turned around to see Eloise approaching him with a slightly irked look on her face. "You summoned me, my lord?" she questioned him and Vasey looked at her with a grin that seemed to disconcert her and he knew he was revealing some of his malicious intents to her. "Yes. As you might be well aware, I have invited Count Frederick of Bavaria to Nottingham. During his visit I expect you to divert him, making his stay as pleasant as possible." he stated in a tone of voice that did not veil the hidden meaning behind his words. He looked at Gisborne and saw that a flash of surprise had passed through his right-hand-man's eyes, but that he quickly recovered himself and fixed Eloise with his steely gaze. Vasey asked him: "What do you think of the idea Gisborne?" "Very good, my lord." he stated, while looking at her coldly. A flash of hurt passed through the girl's cornflower-blue eyes, before she got indignated at the proposition. She was about to refuse him, when he interrupted her and asked with feigned nonchalance: "How is your uncle, my dear?" She looked slightly disconcerted at his change of topic, but once more got that obstinate, disapproving look on her face, that Vasey despised with such vehemence and that he longed to wipe off her face for good: "He is frail, my lord. And the house arrest does not help." he exhaled with more exasperation than was necessary at her statement and he looked at her and again with slightly threatening nonchalance stated: "But alive." He knew that Eloise had grasped the hidden threat behind his words, because her eyes widened and got a glint of fierceness, one that stated that she would fight him and protect her uncle with any means available and necessary. Vasey smiled satisfied. He had her. He had touched upon her weakness and he knew she would do whatever he demanded to keep her uncle well and safe in his few last days. He took three golden coins from his pocket and handed them to her and indulgingly with mock-care demanded: "Buy yourself something pretty. Something that the Count will appreciate." She looked at him unhappily, but he saw that she had given in. He looked at the golden coins in her hand and took one and handed it to Gisborne, before mockingly insulting her: "The cheaper the better." she looked up at him furiously at his humiliation of her. He chuckled tauntingly and moved past her. He grew sadistically content, when he heard his right-hand-man throw the coin behind him and cruelly telling the girl "Fetch!" before following his superior, who had walked past the discontent girl. This was a confirmation that Gisborne now despised the leper and would focus his attentions of the sole purpose of carrying out Operation 'Shah Mat' and Vasey knew that his plans were well underway.

* * *

He and Gisborne were walking with long, purposeful strides in the direction of the courtyard. Count Frederick was bound to arrive any second now and Vasey felt the obligation to properly receive his benefactor. He had told a servant to fetch Eloise and he sincerely hoped for her sake, that she was already out in the courtyard, awaiting her charge with feigned glee and excitement. He knew she would be able to deceive the Count, she was after all skilled at deception, all lepers were. He walked out through the door and he saw her silhouette standing on the steps, her posture prideful and as he moved closer he could not help but think that the leper had done excellent work preparing herself. She was wearing a tight, red dress, which hugged every slender curve of her body and for the first time properly showed what was underneath those layers of fabric, she sported daily. The vibrant red was contrasting alluringly with her milky-white, porcelain skin and she had her fiery-red hair pinned up giving everyone a good view of her slender neck and her delicate shoulders. He glanced to his side at Gisborne to see his right-hand-man fixing the girl with scorching, hungry gaze and Vasey had to roll his eyes at the tall brooding man. He just couldn't help himself when it came to the girl, could he?

As both of them moved closer, Vasey announce his presence by stating, a mocking tone creeping into his voice: "Look at you, my dear. You really put in a satisfactory effort." She turned around at the sound of his voice and fixed him with an angry glare, no doubt generated by the situation he had forced her into. The dress was low-cut, giving a tantalising look at her modest cleavage, while still being discreet and not revealing too much. Only enough to tempt the Count and keep his mind focused on things other than the game. He disregarded her angry gaze and positioned himself beside her, her on his left, while Gisborne stood to his right as customary. They did not wait long, until he saw the pompous carriage of the Count arriving. It was ornamentated, with golden decorations lining the edges of the vehicle and hinting at the wealth of its owner. The horses who pulled the carriage seemed well-fed, strong and of good breeding, with shining fur and strong, atheltic legs. The carriage come to a stop before them and the door was opened by one of the servants. A short, bearded man with slightly greying hair stepped out. His attire matched the vehicle he had arrived in and was made of high-quality silk with golden ornamentations decorating it. The man looked around him with a disapproving gaze, before stepping out and moving toward Vasey, while he in turn descended the steps and moved to greet his guest. "Welcome my dear Count Frederick" he stated in a boisterous, welcoming voice. He held out his hand. Count Frederick looked at him with slight distaste and dissatisfaction, before taking his hand and greeting him in a slightly less excited manner: "Sheriff Vasey. It is good to finally arrive. Your roads are terrible. My carriage shook so much, I feel scrambled like the egg." Vasey suppresed the need to roll his eyes at the ridiculous accent of the man and his equally farcical expression. "Ah yes." he stated with mock-regret, still keeping his voice as pleasant and cordial as possible "I chose the route with your safety in mind. I tried to forego Sherwood Forest, lest you be ambushed by the outlaws." At this moment he thought, he wouldn't have minded if the Count got a fright from the outlaws, but Hood would most definitely steal the heavy chest containing the gold that was meant for him. The one that was being carried the Count's servants now carried to his chamber, with slight exhaustion at its weight, the chest emitting a bell-like, climpering noise, as the treasure inside was being carellessly shaken around. Vasey had to surpress the need to smile excitedly, as he thought that the gold would soon be in his possesion.

He put a comradely arm around the Count's shoulders and steered him in the direction of Eloise. He saw the Count's eyes brighten and his lips twist into an appreciative smirk, as he laid his eyes on the girl. "This is Lady Eloise. She has made it her personal task to make your stay here as comfortable as possible." The Count grinned anticipatingly at that and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his right-hand-man ball his hands into fists at the lustful look the Count was bestowing on Eloise. Vasey felt indignation at Gisborne rise with that. It seemed that his lackey was still not completely free of his affections for the girl and Vasey feared the complications that Gisborne's jealousy could cause. He fixed the leather-clad man with a warning look, which his inferior seemed to heed, but he still looked at the Count through narrowed eyes. Eloise outstretched her hand and smiled counterfeitly, before stating in a soft voice: "We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival, my lord." Count Frederick smiled indulgingly at that, took her outstretched hand and charmingly kissed her knuckles, before stating with exaggerated charm: "If I had known what awaited me in Nottingham I would have employed winged horses." She continued smiling cordially, as if her lips was set in this expression, but Vasey could see slight vexation cross her eyes at the overly charming compliment. Before Count Frederick could detect the annoyance, Vasey stated boisterously: "Why don't we adjourn to the casino. You are no doubt excited to try out your luck here in England, my Count." Count Frederick nodded slightly at that, but he did not take his eyes off Eloise and looked at her questioningly: "Will I enjoy your company in the gambling room, my lady?" She smiled apologetically and stated: "I'm afraid I am not to fond of such pursuits." Vasey looked at her warningly, as he sensed her attempt to escape the Count's company. But the Count was not detered by her veiled rejection and stated congenially: "Well then we shall have to find pursuits you do enjoy. Tell me, Lady Eloise, do you enjoy riding?" Her cornflower-blue eyes widened as his insinuation, veiled by a seemingly innocent question, was not lost on her. Neither on his right-hand-man, as Vasey saw Gisborne look at the Count similarly surprised, while simultaneously furiously, in response to the innuendo. The dark-haired man looked as if he wanted to strike the man for his indiscretion. Before Gisborne could make good on his wish, Vasey hastily ushered all to the hall, which now functioned as the castle casino.

* * *

Count Frederick was moving through the casinos, between the different gambling stations and was looking at his surroundings with appreciative eyes. Vasey smiled at the Count's admiration and he knew that his plan to strip the lord of his fortune would be easily fulfilled. The Count moved toward the 'dice' table and looked at it with excitement and anticipation shining in his eyes. Vasey and Gisborne were standing a little to the side, beside the table where the game 'skittles' was played. Here the gambler had to attempt to knock down as many of the pins as they could with one swing of the wooden ball, which was attached to a string. Eloise was currently attempting the game with a bored look on her face. Her dissatisfaction and lack of interest was so appearant, that it seemed to radiate from her form and due to her inability to mask her feelings, Count Frederick picked up on it as well. "My lady. I sense your lassitude. Does the divertment not please you?" She scoffed derogatorily and said with undiluted scorn: "It is a child's game." Count Frederick moved toward her and took the ball from her hands, allowing his hands to linger on her delicate fingers longer than necessary. He showed her how to properly throw the ball and handed it back to her, before passionately talking about games of chance, a speech that was cut short when Eloise let her swing go wide and the ball hit the Count in his groin. The man doubled over slightly and let out an 'oomph' of pain at the impact. Vasey looked disapprovingly and furiously at Eloise, who was attempting to stifle her smile and at her look of delight, he knew that she had done this on purpose. He heard Gisborne snort almost inaudibly at his side and glanced sideways at his lackey to see him sporting a satisfied grin on his lips and look at the red-haired girl almost pridefully.

After Count Frederick had recovered from the injury, they all adjourned to the 'dice' table and Count Frederick was busy laying out his first bet. Gisborne handed him the red dices, shoving the red squares into the German's hand with more force than necessary, and Count Frederick glanced up at Eloise, who was standing on the side of the table, a distance from Count Frederick and he smiled mischieviously before calling out to her: "Lady Eloise, please assist me with the first roll of the dice." The girl, whose patience was running thin, pretended as if she had not heard the Count over the hubbub of the others present in the casino. Gisborne stated scornfully: "All Eloise needs is a little coaxing. It's her way. She really means 'yes' when she says 'no'." The Count looked slightly appeased and encouraged at that and he raised his voice and stated with more severity: "My lady, I insist on you bestowing me luck during my first throw." She looked at him with a neutral expression, before reluctantly moving toward him. The Count smiled at her obedience and when she had come closer he held his outstretched hands up, showing her the dice and coaxing her silently to blow on them. She at first looked reluctant, but her eyes got a glint of determination when they flickered to Vasey's right-hand-man, who was standing behind the Count. She leaned down and closed her eyes, before provocatively pouting her soft, pink lips and blowing on the dice. Cockily, the Count threw the dice and won. Eloise smiled slightly at the result and said in a soft, but determined voice: "You shall have to excuse me, Lord Count. I wish to retire, for I have a headache." Count Frederick smiled at her indulgingly, before putting his hands on her temples and rubbing them gently. "Ah, yes. I have always found that rubbing of the temples helps diminish the ache." Vasey felt Gisborne fuming beside him at the ministrations of the Count. Eloise put her hands at his wrist to stop his caresses, before smiling apologetically and excusing herself. As Count Frederick appreciatively watched her swaying form leave he said: "I confess I did not believe I would enjoy Nottingham, but I must be honest. I find I am liking it very much."

* * *

It had been a week since Count Frederick's arrival in Nottingham and during this time intervall Vasey had been content. The Count was steadfastly losing his money and his strong room was filling and filling with the german Count's gold. His plan was coming along splendidly and Vasey delighted himself knowing that he would not have to part with his own gold to revunerate the Black Knights. It also provided him satisfaction to steal from the imbecile, who had been annoying him, since his arrival. The count was unbereable, not only was his accent incredibly grating, but his manner and his moronic behaviour was seriously exasperating. Vasey looked forward to the moment, that he had stripped Count Frederick of his last golden coin and the short, bearded man would depart back to his natal lands. And at the rate the Count was losing money every night, it would not be too long. Vasey had to admit that Eloise was doing good work distracting the idiot. She was always at his side and was cordial and kind to him. She attended to his every whim and Vasey could see that Count Frederick enjoyed the girl's company. It was appearant to Vasey that the girl was growing irritated with her charge, but the Count didn't realize and continued being content. Vasey smirked as long as his guest was content, he was content. Gisborne, however, was not content and Vasey perceived the jealous ambience around his right-hand-man, whenever the count and the leper stood too closely. Vasey had to roll his eyes in annoyance and exasperation. Even though Gisborne was treating her quite crudely and severely, he could sense that his right-hand-man was still idiotically besotted with the red-haired girl, who had so callously betrayed him. Vasey would never admit it, but he didn't find Gisborne as dim-witted, as he always stated. No if he thought Gisborne was a fool, he would have never employed him and kept him at his side. He had to admit that the man had a malicious, scheming mind, that was quite useful to the Sheriff at times. But right now Vasey only thought Gisborne a fool. He thought him moronic for still obviously caring for the girl, who had quite obviously consorted with Hood. Whom he suspected to be involved with Hood, in a paramour exceeding friendship. But his dealings with the girl was Gisborne's business, as long as his snivelling affections did not deter them from sucessfully carrying out 'Shah Mat' Vasey would not be bothered.

Vasey stood in front of the map laid out on the table and his lips twisted into a demonic grin. The map showed all the possible places, where King Richard could land after stepping foot on english soil. His ten thousand men would await him in any port he could possibly choose. Vasey and Gisborne would be anxiously awaiting to receive their sovereign in his most likely choice, a port on english soil that was furthest east. Yes, both him and Gisborne would await his arrival anxiously and would receive him back with a hospitality King Richard might not have entirely expected. And as soon as Vasey had driven the dagger through his feline heart, the Sheriff would have unlimited power, every whim his avarice could generate would be satisfied. Vasey would finally achieve all he had set out for in his life. The first thing he would do was hunt down and hang Hood, whose death, if not already dead after trying to protect his sovereign, will bring him so much joy. Then the girl would hang, since by then she will have no doubt revealed her treacherous inclinations. This thought delighted him and he felt childish glee rise within him at the idea.

He was shaken out of his Machievellian reverie by a heavily accented voice that had caused him aggravation this past week: "Deep in thought, my lord? No doubt you have had to think quite a lot in this past time, so that your coup will be successful." Vasey was startled and looked over his shoulders at Count Frederick, who was emerging from the shadows with a fiendish grin on his face. Vasey felt dread and suprise rise within him at the Count's knowledge of the plan and the Count seeing his disconcerted expression indulgingly and proudly stated: "You didn't think that I would not be suspicious of an invitation from a Sheriff of a back-water county in England. That I would not do my homework. Your reputation proceeds you, I'm afraid." Vasey looked at him threateningly. He was already plotting how he could silence the annoying count. The imbecile would no doubt get in his way and Vasey would not stand for it. He was pulled out of his malintentious scheming as Count Frederick continued on speaking: "Now, as you are quite aware, I am quite affluent and have many capable men at my disposal. Foreign aid always helps if you are plotting to overthrow a sovereign." Vasey felt himself grow interested at the Count's veiled proposal, but he was also suspicious and reluctant. The count would no doubt demand a handsome recompensation for his assistance and Vasey was not enitrely sure whether the price he would pay would be worth it. He looked at him through narrow eyes and hissed like a venomous snake: "Well let's get right down to business then, shall we? What do you want for your assistance, my lord?" Count Frederick looked startled at his bluntness, but recovered himself before stating with a covetous grimace: "Me and Lady Eloise have grown quite close over the past week. I have come to enjoy her company very much and I loath to part from it. I was planning to ask for her hand tonight. I would find myself quite grateful, if you gave us your blessing and ensured her accepting of my proposal." Undiluted, fiendish joy rose within him. This was perfect. He would not only gain a quite powerful ally and a welcome addition to his army, but he would also be rid of the sanctimonious leper. He chuckled darkly and said: "That could be arranged." Count Frederick grinned at him anticipatingly and exited the alcove without another word. He told one of the guards to fetch Eloise. He had matters to discuss with her.

* * *

Eloise stood before him in slight agitation. Her eyes were shining with clamor. He knew she wanted to return to her chambers, appearantly her uncle's health had taken a turn for the worst. She did not need to worry, Vasey planned to keep this conversation short and matter-of-factly. "You summoned me, my lord?" she asked her voice revealing her disquiet over her uncle's ailment. This was fortunate for him. He knew she would probably try to rebuke Count Frederick's proposal, seeing that the man aggravated her and she felt no kinship to him. But he knew that if he used her uncle, gave him an opportunity, Eloise would not be able to resist. She would sacrifice herself to save her uncle, especially when her desperation for his health was so blatant. "Yes, I shall come straight to the point. I called you here, my dear, to tell you of the plans for tonight. A little birdy told me that Count Frederick wishes to ask for your hand in marriage." he saw her eyes widen in alarm and he had to smirk at her predicatbility. He continued undetered: "He shall make you a proposal and in response you shall..." she cut him off and stated obstinately: "I shall thank him for his kind offer and consideration, but I shall politely decline. If that is all my lord, I need to tend to my uncle." With that she turned to leave, but his chuckles stopped her mid-step and he said, with mock-affection coating his words: "Yes, your dear, sickly uncle. Wouldn't it be a shame if he perished under the disease. If the man you care for so greatly, left you so soon. His health has been deteriorating, no doubt a result of the house-arrest he has been placed under due to your wilfulness. But perhaps I can find it in my heart to reconsider his confinement, considering that his health has been suffering so greatly under it. Perhaps I could find it in my heart to contribute to his salvation, if you reconsider my friend's happiness." She stood paralyzed, stock-still with her back turned to him, her posture tense, attentively listening to his words. He approached her until he stood behind her and he felt her recoil at his proximity. Still he leaned in and whispered into her ear: "Now let's try again, shall we? Tonight Count Frederick shall make you a proposal, he shall ask you to accompany him to Bavaria as his bride. And you shall...?" Silence filled the room, then finally with a defeated, shaky voice she whispered completing his sentence: "Accept."

* * *

Gisborne stood beside him in the throne room, that had been vacated for the evening considering what was to take place. The statuesque, brooding man had a slightly confounded expression on his face as he looked at the inactivity of the casino that had been bustling with motion over the past week, as the nobles, who had access to the casino, exploited the divertment offered by the games and hustled like agitated insects and indulged in ale and decadence. He knew Gisborne would be highly discontent with the developments the night promised and he warned the brooding man with a serious hiss: "A word of protest tonight and I shall see you stripped of all your fortunes, Gisborne." his right-hand-man stared at him with confusion written over his features, but he was interrupted from questioning the meaning of the warning by Count Frederick entering the room. The Count had an excited expression on his face and practically skipped with anticipation, that his desires would be fulfilled. Vasey rolled his eyes at the man's jubilance.

Eloise followed him soon and walked toward them looking down at her feet with a defeated, melancholic expression. She was going to have to do better than that. She would have to at least feign happiness and excitement at the Count's proposal and not look like she had just attended a funeral. He fixed her with a warning gaze, that she no doubt sensed, because he saw the corner of her lips quirk up in a small, counterfeit smile. Better. Count Frederick was looking at her with his chest puffed out, brimming with self-satisfaction as he scrutinized the woman he had acquired, approaching him. She came to a stop before him and smiled waterly at him, before once more lowering her gaze to the ground sorrowfully. Count Frederick was not detered by her obvious sadness and stated in a proud voice: "My dear Sheriff, dear Lady Eloise. I have asked for your company tonight, because I have an important matter to address. My dear Eloise, we have grown quite close over the past week and I have come to enjoy your company like no other's. However, I depart soon back to Bavaria and I loath to be deprived of your company. That is why I ask you, Lady Eloise, for your hand in marriage." With that last sentence, Count Frederick pulled out a ring from his pocket and got on his knees in front of her. Beside him he felt Gisborne start forward, as if he wanted to break up the scene in front of him, but Vasey felt satisfied that his right-hand-man heeded his warning and stopped himself. He glanced at Gisborned out of the corner of his eyes and saw the brooding man fuming beside him and watching Eloise with an incredulous and pleading expression. In turn, she looked at the Count before her with a neutral expression and she did not answer for few, long seconds. She simply kept glancing at him and looked as if she felt torn. Her eyes the flickered to Gisborne and her face contorted with agony and self-conflict. She closed her eyes before she took Count Frederick's outstretched hand and said in a shaky voice: "Yes, I accept."

But the response to her acceptance was interrupted. The count's cheerful voice did not fill the room. Vasey did not get to congratulate the couple, because one of his guard's entered at the exact moment she had uttered her compliance and stated agitatedly: "Lady Eloise, your uncle." Vasey saw her stiffen, before she ran out the room, with an agility that was astounding. Gisborne followed closely behind her.

* * *

Guy ran after her like the devil was chasing him, like he was trying to outrun what he had seen occur in the throne room, like he was chasing her because he felt that if she outran him, he would forever lose her. The agony he had felt at seeing her accept Count Frederick's proposal, the betrayal he had felt, how he had felt that his breathing passages had gotten obstructed, this was all tampered down now, as adrenaline coursed through and dominated his body. He had never felt so deceived in his life, never so despondent. He had wanted to run his sword through Count Frederick, when he had possessed the gall to propose to Eloise. He had wanted to alleviate the scorn he had felt toward the man this entire past week, the jealousy he had felt and that had built up within him and had stromed in him like a black cloud. He had felt pure, undiluted rage when the count had gotten on his knees before Eloise and wanted to take her away. But when she had accepted, he had not felt anger he had felt all-consuming, all-encompassing sadness. He had felt defeated, he had felt betrayed. But this betrayal did not cause him wrath, it simply caused him dejection and despair. It had caused him agonizing desperation, because when she had accepted his proposal he knew he was losing her. He felt as if he was permanently letting her go. Over the past week he had tried to forget her, to become indifferent to her, had tried to forget that when she had kissed him, he had felt like he was in heaven, like he had finally achieved everything he ever wanted. He had felt accomplished, but after her rejection he had grown angry and he had been tired of constantly pursuing her, constantly going after her, so that she could push him away once more. He had been tired, and he had wanted to forget her, because with Operation 'Shah Mat' in process, he had other things to occupy his mind. So he had been severe to her, had pushed her away. Yet, when she had accepted to forever leave him his desperation and longing for her, which he had tried to numb, had hit him and left him breathless. He could not let her marry another man, he could not let go of her, because it would kill him. It would kill him to give up on her.

Yet all these thoughts had temporarily left his mind, as he ran after the agile girl, who had exited the throne room, as soon as the guard had fetched her on account of her uncle. Guy felt dread and premonition spread across him. He knew what image awaited them, as soon as they reached Sir Edward's chamber. He knew what expected them. Still he could not help, but feel shock as he saw the lifeless form of the former Lord of Knighton lying on the bed. Some people compared death to an eternal slumber, but Guy did not know where the comparison had its origin, for it was so erroneous. Death had nothing of the peaceful atmosphere of sleep. Guy had seen death before, it was part of his occupation and he dealed with it daily. And mostly the blood-drenched corpses he saw did not give the illusion that the person was simply asleep, as they stared up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes and horrendous wounds. Sir Edward did not give the impression, as if he was asleep. Even though his eyes had been closed and he was not staring with the unrelenting, wide-eyed gaze of the dead, his form looked so lifeless. His weathered skin had lost any colour and even from a distance he could see that no warmth exuded from him. That his heart had stopped beating and that only his carnal vessel remained. He saw Eloise standing in the middle of her room, her back to him, but he knew she was looking at her uncle's figure with an incredulous gaze. She stood severely, like a statue, paralyzed by her shock. Guy did not know what he expected- probably that she would go to her uncle's side and grieve over his lifeless body. Yet she did something entirely unexpected, she walked past him briskly, as if she wanted to escape the image of her uncle's dead body, just as he had wanted to escape the image of another man becoming betrothed to her.

He was so surprised by her actions that he did not stop her, when she walked past him, and only recuperated when she was already a good ways down the candle-lit corridors. As soon as he had recovered from his surprise he went after her, sensing that she did not truly wish to be alone at this time, knowing that she needed him at the moment. So he walked after her and at the sound of his following footsteps, her pace quickened and she started to run. In response he took off running after her. He was now chasing her and she seemed intent to get away from him, but the finality of him letting her run off was not something he could endure. So he ran after her and passed her by. He ran around the stone pillar, as she had tried to divert her route to get away from him and he stood before her cutting off her path. She looked at him angrily and breathing heavily, but whatever she saw in his eyes caused her face to crumple and a grimace of grief contorted her features. She looked down at her feet sadly and Guy moved closer to her, before enveloping his arms around her in an embrace. He felt that her hands had balled to fists on his chest, her unwilling to return his embrace, but she still seemed to slump against his form and rest her head on his chest. He felt the tremors shaking her delicate frame and he felt compassion for her. Compassion for the girl, who had just lost her uncle. Who had just lost the man she had considered her father, who had cared for her and who she had loved unconditionally, and whose lose would forever torment her. He tightened his arms around her and held her tenderly, and at his silent conselation he felt all stiffness leave her and she just let him hold her, while she cried silent tears. He would take care of her. It was the least he could do for her and he knew that Sir Edward would wish for his niece to be cared for. So he kissed the top of her hair and mumbled into her fiery-red hair: "It's alright. I'll care for you." He felt her shake her head slightly and she looked at him with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and her trembling voice said: "It's too late. You're too late. I gave Count Frederick my word. I am bound to him now." At her words dread and panic once more settled into his stomach, as he remembered what had occurred previously. She was right. She was bound to him and he knew that Vasey would make sure that this marriage was consummated. Feeling helpless and despaired, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and inhaled her sweet scent, and felt her body against his, for what he feared would be the last time.


	34. Relieve

Chapter 34

**Hello my naughty chipmunks. Here shall be the chapter to satiate your curiosity. I hope it pleases you all! Read and Review. Don't be shy. Next chapter shall be a treat and shall contain a scene, that we all have been waiting for, me thinks. If I can get five reviews on this chapter it shall be posted by Friday. Read and enjoy. **

**P.S.: I'm sorry if you think the angst and sadness is too much. Please tell me if I am going overboard. :)**

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_"I know you're pleased to go. I won't relieve this love."- My love, Sia_

It was the night before the nuptials and Robin felt a sense of urgency grip him. He had heard in the gossip of the villagers that Lady Eloise of Knighton, the niece of the late Sir Edward, had become betrothed to Count Frederick of Bavaria and that tomorrow they would be wed under Sheriff Vasey's blessing. No, Eloise could not marry the Count. He would take her to wherever in Germany he lived and Robin would never see her again. He still needed her. She still had to fight alongside him. She still had to defeat Vasey and Gisborne and reinstate King Richard on his throne. She still had to be declared a hero of the country along with him and all his other outlaws. They were still meant to be together, after they had defeated King Richard. She could not leave him. He remembered that when he had heard the news he had been devastated and had returned to the outlaws' camp, since in his distressed state he was dangerously vulnerable to being captured. He remembered that Much and John had tried to console, had tried to rationalize her behaviour to him, because he had felt so cheated by her and he had felt so jealous. He had been unable to visit her, because he knew that one look at her would devastate him, now that he knew she was someone else's bride. But it was the night before the nuptials and Robin knew that he would do anything to stop her from getting married. He needed to prevent the marriage happening tomorrow.

So that is how he found himself climbing through the windows of her chamber and he saw her sleeping form on the bed. At seeing her, he felt distress pack him and twist his features in an agonized grimace. She was meant to marry somebody other than him and he would never see her again. Would never see her shining blue eyes gaze at him with excitement and affection. He would never once more see her enthusiastic smile, hear her dulcet voice, which always seemed to know exactly what to say to him. He would never get to see her waking up, looking savagely disheveled from sleeping on the forest ground, her fiery-red hair unkempt like the mane of a lion. He would not allow her to get married to the Count and he would not allow her to leave him. So he lay down beside her and put his arm around her waist. He felt her stir awake at the added pressure of his touch and she turned to him and owlishly blinked at him, trying to get the sleep out of her eyes. He smiled at her sadly and tightened his arms around her, before desolately laying his head on her chest. He felt her return his embrace and cradle his head in her arms lovingly. He inhaled her flowery scent and he felt the complete disarray that had packed him since he had heard of her plans, diminish slightly at her proximity. He mumbled in a weak voice: "Don't get married. Come with me to Sherwood. There is nothing keeping you here now." He knew he was being insensitive. The news of his old friend and mentor's death had shook him, and he knew Eloise needed time to grieve her uncle, the man she had loved like a father. But right now all he cared about was stopping her from getting married to the count tomorrow, so anything else had become negligible to him. He felt her shaking her head and at the rejection that was bound to follow her buried his head closer to her chest and listened to her steady heartbeat. Her thin voice said: "I can't Robin. I can't" He knew she would refuse him, yet he still felt angry and indignated and obstinate. He was determined to get her out of this godforsaken fortress. "Why not?" he spat like an insolent, stubborn child. He felt her arms around him tighten, like she did not want to let go of him and feared what his response to her answer would be. "My uncle just died, Robin. I can't breathe in here. I can't breathe." He looked up at her and saw her despondent gaze and he said more feverishly: "Then come to Sherwood with me. I can get you away from here. You can breathe there." She shook her head still, disregarding his words and Robin felt defeat spread through his body. But he pressed it down. He would not give up on her. "I won't be able to breathe there either Robin. I need to get away from Nottingham, from this county, where the memory of my uncle haunts me. I need to get away and Count Frederick is offering me that. I need to get away Robin, please." At seeing her despair, he felt pity rise within him, but then he spat contemptously: "What about the cause? What about King Richard? What about your allegiance?" He knew he had hit her weakness, as her face contorted in shame and she looked down, before stating: "You'll be able to triumph without me. I know you can do it Robin. You won't need me, but know that wherever I am, I shall be praying for your victory." He recoiled from her slightly at her words, and she tightened her arms and hurt passed through her eyes. No, didn't she know how important she was? Surely, she was deranged by her grief for her uncle. This was not his brave, headstrong Eloise. This was not the girl, who he had been sure would fearlessly risk her life for England. Whose allegiance to King Richard he had thought almost greater than his. But she was giving up, because her uncle had died and she felt that there was nothing worth fighting for anymore. He gripped her chin and gently lifted her eyes to his: "We need you. The outlaws need you. England needs you. I need you." She exhaled heavily and buried her face on the crook of his neck. He knew he had not achieved anything, because he did not feel her old, tigerish spirit fill her body, because she still lay slack, almost lifelessly against him. So when she asked him to forgive her, he only tightened his arms in response, unwilling to let her go, but knowing he had lost.

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He felt nothing, he felt numb. He had indulged in ale last night, in an attempt to forget what the next morning would bring. He had hoped that the effects of the beverage that he had drunken last night would dominate over any pain he would feel this morning. But he hadn't need worry, because he did not feel anything when he awoke this morning. He felt as if his senses and his perception had been impaired by an invisible fog. And he moved through the desolate corridors of Nottingham Castle feeling nothing, as he went to fetch the woman he loved, so she could be wed to another man. He knew what he was about to do, but he still felt nothing. Perhaps his body was too tired to feel anything, as he had spent the last week in agony as the nuptials were planned and the castle was prepared for the celebration. Perhaps he had been drained of all his emotions. Perhaps he was no longer supposed to feel anything, anything but defeat. He moved toward the chamber, where the bride was getting prepared not feeling anything and praising, but also simultaneously cursing his haze, because it felt to final, it felt like he had given up.

He knocked upon the wooden door and he heard feminine feet scramble toward the door, and a chamber maid opened the door flusterdly. She did not completely open the door, no doubt in an attempt to conceal the appearance of the blushing bride contained within from masculine eyes. He simply looked at the suspicious servant impassively and heard himself saying coldly: "I am here to fetch Lady Eloise and bring her to wedding hall." The maid felt slightly appeased at that and opened the door, allowing him to step in. And as soon as he laid eyes on her, he knew he had all but given up on her. His feelings came back with a vengeance, as he saw her looking so beautiful, in front of the looking glass, facing him. She was wearing a pale beige dress with flowers of the same colour stitched upon them. Her face was curtained by a veil, which was fastened on her head with white flowers and her red-painted lips stood out vibrantly against the transparent fabric of the veil. He felt his breath hitch and then quicken and his heart starting to pound in her chest. She was looking so lovely and she was getting married to another man, to someone other than him. He felt himself start trembling with yearning, but he held himself back and did not go to her, and he was sure he was looking at her with so much longing in his eyes. He could not properly make out the emotion in her eyes, but saw her chest rising and falling heavily with breath. Without taking her gaze off him, she dismissed the chamber maids, who stood around her, thanking them for their assistance. They stood paralyzed even after the door had closed behind the last maid. They stood impassively and simply looked at each other and he felt the air around him grow heavy and dense, like he was radiating his desire for her into the room. He felt his stomach contract painfully, as he thought that in a few hours she would be another man's. And he wished more than anything that it could be him she would walk to. She approached him and said: "I suppose it is time to go" in a dejected voice, but as she passed by him, he felt desperation grip him and he grabbed her arm with so much strength, he was sure was hurting her, but she didn't say anything. He could see her features through the veil now, as she stood so close to him. He could see her cornflower-blue eyes and her pained gaze, directed at him.

She looked at him, expectantly, her gaze urging him to say something, anything. But he could not find the words. He wanted to ask her not to marry the count, to be with him, to build a life with him, but he could not find the words. He could not find the words to ask for her love and to reveal how much he adored her, so he said nothing and sensing his silence, she lowered her gaze sorrowfully. He closed his eyes pained and said through gritted teeth: "You should have been mine." She did not answer him and he did not look at her, but he heard the rustling of fabric as she lifted her veil. The next thing he felt was her lips press against the skin beneath his ear and the contact of her lips caused a sweet, delicious burning to spread from this spot throughout his body and he felt his longing for her increase, and his heart start to beat in his chest frantically, as if it could stop at any minute and was determined to enjoy its last moments of activity. He still did not look at her and simply hung his head, as he felt her raise her lips to his ear and she whispered longingly, shakily: "Oh, how I wish it was you." He exhaled shakily at that, as his desperation for her threatened to bury him. He felt how she gently pried his hand off her arm and he heard her open the door, before she closed it behind her, leaving him behind in the turmoil she had created.

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She closed the door behind her and lowered her veil onto her face, so that it would cocneal any tears that could start to roll down her cheek. She felt nothing, she felt numb, and could slightly detect the oppressive pressure of grief weighing her down. Her senses seemed to be dulled, and she feared that she would not feel if tears started to roll down her face and would not be able to brush them away. She had been in a numb haze, since her uncle's death a week ago. All she ever felt was that constantly present pressure of her mourning pulling her down, but anything she did not feel. Everything that occured to her in the past week, she had perceived through a foggy haze, as if she was no longer inside her, but was a neutral spectator. She had not felt anything, but her grief and a smothering need to feel something. But when Guy had come into her chambers to fetch her, she had felt... longing for him, and the love she knew she felt toward him had threatened to strangle her. After having not felt anything for so long, and just seeing him standing in front of her, looking at her with longing, had been so painful. She had felt stiffled in his presence and she had dismissed the maids, because she needed those uninterrupted moments of intimacy with him. She had longed for them, and she had longed to confess herself to him. To tell him just how much she truly loved him, how she had loved him for so long and how she rued having tried to be indifferent to him, not surrendering sooner. She had longed to tell him, but she had not found the words and had been discouraged, when she had seen him looking at her only silently. She had wanted him to say something, to ask her not to marry Count Frederick, because she knew that if he asked her she would have defied Vasey's orders. For him. But he had not said anything and she felt defeat pass through her body and she had prepared herself to walk down the altar, to another man. But he had grabbed her by the arm and the pressure had been painful, but she had been closer to him and she had sensed the tremor that shook his body and for one moment she had allowed herself to believe that it was out of longing for her, that he felt the same pain. She had allowed herself to believe that he loved her. And those few moments had been so blissful and then when he had sorrowfully told her that she should have been his, she had shaken her head and she had felt compelled to tell him that she was his, completely his, body, mind and soul. That she could never be another man's, because he already held her heart and she knew that as long as she lived, he would keep it. Because, even though she was marrying another man, her body, her sould cried out for him and longed to surrender to him. But she had not told him and right now, as with each step she distanced herself from him, she felt her regret increasing and causing her to become breathless. She had needed to one last time feel his skin beneath her lips and she had lovingly kissed the skin beneath his ears and with the words she had whispered, she had tried to convey her affections.

Then she had left him and she had to laugh unamusedly, because it always seemed to be the same pattern repeating itself over and over again. It always ended with her walking away from him, and she was so tired of it, but she knew that this had been the last time, because shortly she would be the wife of another. What she had told Robin last night had been true. She had felt so empty, so emotionless the past week, that she did not even feel like she could breathe over this oppressive haze that had settled around her. She could not breathe here in Nottinghamshire, where the constant memory of her uncle haunted her. She had not been able to even say Goodbye to the man she had adored and she knew that this stolen moment would forever torment her, she had not been able to bid him goodbye, she had not been able to attain some form of closure before her uncle completely left this world and her. She was not able to breathe here in Nottingham, where he was always so close and his mere presence caused her so much ecstatic pain. When she prayed that her feelings would cease only to fear that her wish could come true in the next moment. No, she could not think, she could not sleep, she could not breathe. And she needed liberation, she desired it and Count Frederick was offering her that, and she was determined to pursue it. To liberate herself, because she would not be able to withstand it for much longer.

She was passing by a heavy, wooden door that had been left slightly ajar. Through this gap she could hear the boisterous laughter of her groom, and she grew curious. She looked around her conspicuously to see whether anyone would catch her eavesdropping, before she moved closer to better overhear what was going on inside. She looked through the gap and saw Count Frederick and Vasey toasting to a not-yet accomplished victory, but completely assured that they were to emerge winners nonetheless. Her interest was piqued and she was determined to find out what had the two men in such a jubilant mood. Vasey's joy was too genuine to be directed at her nuptials. There was no doubt another reason. She saw the two men raise their glasses and heard Vasey's nasal voice exclaim commemoratively: "A toast to your nuptials, my friend, and to a long alliance between the two of us." Eloise furrowed her brow at the mention of the alliance and dread started to settle into her stomach, as she started to suspect just over what cause the two men had bonded. Her anticipation did not prepare her at all for the shock, when Count Frederick stated: "Yes, as soon as me and my bride return to Bavaria, I shall send you the first of the men I have promised you, so that you can train them to carry out 'Shah Mat'." Eloise recoiled and felt disgust and wrath spread through her like a wild-fire. She no longer felt numb, the foggy haze had been dispelled by her rage at her future husband's involvement in the coup against the king. She was going to marry the man, who was contributing to her sovereign's death. She was being used as a trading tool to ensure his foreign aid. She felt herself grow naesous and helpless at that. It would be impossible to escape with guards stationed at every corner. She would not be able to flee and she cursed herself for not going with Robin last night. She felt helpless. Perhaps she could have done something had she been in her old spirit, but she felt so exhausted after not feeling anything for so long. She felt resignation seep into every pore of her body. So this is what it was like to give up. To let go. She did not enjoy the feeling and she longed for her old tigerishness, but could not find the strength to rebuild herself.

She did not find her strength as she walked down the aisle to Count Frederick. She did not find the strength, when she knelt down with him before the priest. With this muderer, who was planning to kill her sovereign, her idol. The most courageous and just man she knew. Her groom, who was planning to help Vasey and Prince John gain an unabolished rule over her country. One that would no doubt be tyrannous and would send the country she loved, her country into desparity. The squalor the villagers lived in now would be pale in comparison to what awaited them, if they were bound to live under Vasey's corrupt regime for all times. She remembered the despaired faces of the villagers, of the innocent women, men, children and new-borns. She remembered their crying, because they were hungry. And the grief that filled her at that image, gave way to fierceness and she remembered Robin's words from last night, which she had been deaf to out of her own choosing. They needed her, King Richard needed her and England needed her. Because as long as she lived, she would never give up on justice, she would never give up on humanity. They needed her and she knew she would risk her life for her cause. She felt her old headstrongness and tipped back her head at the joy that rose within her at the return of this feeling. She felt alive and she became alert to what was going on around her. Count Frederick had put her wedding band on her finger and she studied it. It was heavily encrusted and silence filled the room as they awaited her to say 'I do' and sign her life off that tyrrant. She took the ring off her finger and put it on her right ringfinger and the priest was whispering alarmed: "No, it goes on the left." She felt adrenaline flow through her body and she felt invincible against the mass of guards, that would no doubt try to stop her escape, but she knew she had to try. She shook her head frantically and stated vehemently: "No... right is better." She balled her right hand into a fist and punched Count Frederick in the face.

She barely registered the sickening crunch of breaking bone and him falling to the ground from the force of the impact, before she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. As she ran down the aisle, she felt undiluted, slightly deranged joy fill her and she felt liberation. It exploded within her and she let out a peal of delighted laughter, which was so loud and genuine it was overheard over the discord her behaviour had caused and she opened the heavy, wooden door and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, hearing Vasey's infuriated scream: "Stop her!" The Sheriff was no doubt urging Guy to go after her, but she knew he didn't oppose to her escape and as she turned to run to the right, she was able to glimpse his disbelieving face among the mass, as if her eyes had sought him out. He looked at her incredulously, but he was sporting an amused and contended smirk nonetheless, which only increased her joy and encouraged her to run faster. She could not feel her legs, and it was as if she was flying. Flying to the stables and mounting Lark, before both of them flew in direction of Robin's camp.


	35. Love is Blindness

Chapter 35

**Le Gasp! The update. God, I spoil you all so much, but I just finished writing the epilogue of the story and I felt that I should indulge, so here is the update. I am incredibly excited to publish, while still being terrified, because I do not know how you will receive the scene contained within. Please review and tell me what you thought. If it is complete crap I can take it out. I don't want something like that to spoil my story for y'all. Anyways as soon as you see the italic lines that follow the paragraphs I would suggest that you liste to Love is Blindness by U2. You don't have to, but it is the song that inspired this chapter, more specifically what I will now refer to as the scene. *trembling in agitation and hoping for much feedback* here you have chapter 35.**

**P.S.: I have heard Vasey being called 'The Malevolent One' and I just have to say that that nickname is genious. I love it. It is adored. I always giggle stupidly when I hear it (I like Vasey, he's funny, eventhough I've made him a complete bastard in the fic) I was sorely tempted to start calling him the malevolent one in my fic, but I like to keep things serious and if I would read I would just burst out laughing. So I didn't call him that, I resisted. Though it was incredibly hard (probably not the best thing to say considering the contents of this chapter)**

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_"Love is blindness. I don't wanna see. Won't you wrap the night around me?"- Love is Blindness, U2_

-Three weeks later-

As the knife spun in the air, the metallic steal captured some of the sun's rays and reflected them causing a brief shadow of illumination on the foliage-covered forest floor. The knife hit the bark of the tree with a dull thud and imbeded itself in the wooden collumn. Eloise smirked almost maliciously, as she perceived the improvement in her aim and her attained aptitude at throwing knives. The three weeks she had spent living among the outlaws of Sherwood forest had been highly educational. Knife-throwing she had learned from Djaq, Robin continued to tutor her and perfect her already exceptional archery skill, John had shown her how to properly wield a sword. At the thought of her sword-fighting lessons, Eloise cringed. She appreciated his effort and his patience at her abysmal sword-wielding skills, but wielding the heavy weapon, which was entirely too large for her delicate frame was exhausting and she did not look forward to this part of her curriculum as she had looked forward to others, like for example when the shy Will Scarlett had taught her how to pick locks and had passed on his savy in engineering. Will was still reserved toward her, but she attributed this to his general shyness and she knew that with time they would grow closer. His offer to teach her the art of lock-picking had been a start and grasping the meaning behind the offer, the red-head had enthusiastically jumped at the chance. He in turn had been amused by her childish glee, but did not comment on it. She remembered arriving in the camp three weeks ago and how they had all looked at her in disbelief. Robin had seemed slightly apprehensive, as they all had. But their defensive postures had slackened, when she had relayed her tale of her failed nuptials and when she had told them how she had effictively knocked out Count Frederick and run, John had let out a bark of laughter that had completely broken the thick tension in the air and Robin had stalked up to her and embraced her, before lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, joyfully. That day had been joyous and filled with cheer for her, a respite from the depression that had consumed her in Nottingham Castle. But her grief had returned the day after, and all the outlaws had tried to console her seeing her gloomy mood. With their support- Djaq's friendship, Will's shy kindness toward her, Robin's constant attempts to make her laugh and John's silent consolation- she had started to heal and she had grown more fond of them each day, grateful for their patience and support. She grabbed her second dagger out of her boot and threw it at the same old tree in front of her, trying to hit the same spot.

Suddenly, she heard rustling footsteps come toward her, just as she was about to throw her third dagger, that she had taken out from inside her shirt. At the sound and the intruder, which the steps announced, she whirled around and threw the knife in the direction of the intruder. The sharp blade missed Allan's alarmed face by millimeters and embedded itself in the bark of the tree beside him. She furrowed her brow, questioning the reason for his being here with her eyes and stated: "You have some nerve showing your face here." She did smile at him though and knew that he was aware that she was not receiving him scornfully. At her pleasant air, his posture slackened and he gave her a small smile, before approaching her with slow steps: "I was looking for you." She smirked at him and turned around to retrieve her daggers from the old tree behind her. As she was wrenching the daggers from the weathered, sturdy bark, she said nonplussed: "Well you found me. What do you need?" She turned back to him and saw that his previously carefree expression had turned solemn and she felt dread settle into her stomach. She already knew the answer. She lowered her gaze and exhaled slightly, before whispering: "It's Guy, isn't it?" "He's looking for you." She smiled sadly at that and looked at him directing her gaze at him. She felt her affection for the leather-clad man return and she asked with an affectionate tone: "How has he been?" Allan smirked unamusedly at that and leaned himself against the tree that still had her dagger embedded into it. He cocked his head and stated: "Missing you. Don't get me wrong he was overjoyed that you escaped and didn't marry the count. But he has started missing you. He would never admit it, but he is in a worse mood than usual and his villagers are definitely feeling his discontentment. He wants to get you back." She laughed humourlessly at that and shook her head: "If I go back to Nottingham Castle, Vasey will kill me." "I know. But I don't think that he is thinking about that. He just wants you back." Longing filled her heart and she exhaled shakily, as she digested his words. "Perhaps you could write him a note and say that you are at a convent, mourning and that you need to be left alone." She shook her head: "They have to be sealed by the mother's superiors official seal." she saw him get a glint of mischief in his eyes and pull out the ring of the mother superior of Kirklee Abbey. Her eyes widened, before she narrowed them in suspicion: "Allan... What did you do?" He smirked indulgingly at her and said: "Let's just say, I'm good with nuns."

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She had just written the note addressed to Guy and sealed the hot wax, by pressing the mother superior's insignia on the red, viscous liquid. She handed the note to Allan and he looked at her with a solemn expression at detecting the hint of sadness in her eyes. She had told Guy in her note that she had given herself to God to grieve her uncle's passing and to pray for his soul. She told him that she had taken the cloth and was repenting for all her sins, that she had taken a vow of silence and was learning obedience and virtue. She told him that she wished to be left alone and beseeched him not to seek her out. She suspired as she handed Allan the note before looking away from the offending piece of parchment. She saw him look at her with compassion in his blue eyes. He was silently telling her that he understood her pain. She hung her head, and her body was shouting at her for her impassiveness, was screaming at her to grab the note and tear it apart, because she was once more lying to Guy and this time, there was such a finality, such closure. Allan turned around and left the camp, while everything within her screamed to go after him and prevent Guy from receiving the note.

She had missed him in the past weeks. She had missed his presence and he had always been in the back of her mind, not the subject of her thoughts, but always nearby. She was happy here living in the heart of Sherwood. She was happy living among the outlaws, who had all become her friend and for whom's sake she would risk her life without a second thought. She was happy with Robin and she was happy that now she constantly felt, as if she was contributing to their cause, to her cause. That she was a personal messenger, a represantative of King Richard. She was happy, but she could not help missing Guy with every fiber of her being. She missed him every day. Robin had become even more intimate with her. When they went to sleep at night, he constantly lay by her side and attempted to hold her, but she would always move out of his embrace. She felt his hurt, the pain he felt at her constant rejection. But he rationalized that it was because she was grieving for her uncle and Eloise did not have the heart to tell him otherwise, because if he knew that she loved his biggest, life-long rival it would tear him apart. And Eloise knew that she was being cowardly and that she ought to tell him and not lead him on, but she didn't want to break his heart. She didn't want to break the heart of her best friend, of her idol. She knew she was only making it worse, every second she allowed him to believe that she returned his feelings. That she could grow to love him the same way. She put her forehand in the palm of her hand and suspired.

She longed to see him. She needed to see him. Just one last time. Tomorrow he would receive her note from Allan and he would start to believe that she was a nun, that she had become a bride of Christ, that she had given herself to God. And she knew it was for the best. It was for the best, if they never saw each other again, because he would hate her if he knew that she was fighting with Robin. It was bound to come out anyways, but she wished for him to be oblivious to this fact for as long as possible, she wished to keep him in the dark about her treachery. Because he would hate her and he would actively fight against her. And the thought of him hating her agonized her, because an irrational part of her still hoped that they could be together. An irrational part of her longed to be his. But him hating her would exitinguish this time flame of hope. And as she thought of all the opportunities they had missed out on, just because of who they were and who they had involved themselves with, grief gripped her heart. She thought about their kiss and how this would be the most they would ever have. She thought about all that they had been deprived of. The life they never had the chance to have and which they both had longed to build together. She thought of the child she would never bear, and she wondered if he would love their child, or if he would find him an incovenience like Seth. She thought of the little boy, who would have her red-hair and his piercing eyes and she allowed herself to think that he would teach their son all he knew, and that his son would admire his father. She felt a clump form in her throat and she lay down her head on the wooden top of the table. She had to see him one last time, just once.

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_Oh my heart, love is blindness_

She climbed through the window of Locksley Manor, the window she knew would lead to his chambers, with anticipation churning within her and elevating the rate of her heart. She climbed and positioned herself in the chambers of the man she loved, which was illuminated by a thin strip of silvery moonlight, which filtered through the window and ran through the wooden floor, until it fanned out at his bed. She saw his slumbering, half-naked form and at the sight she felt her courage leave her. She did not know, what she had planned to do, when she had decided to come to him. She had just felt this compelling urge to see his form one last time. She knew the next time they met, it would be as enemies, as two separate people fighting on different sides. He would grow to hate her then for her allying herself to Robin. She needed to see him one last time. She needed to gaze upon him one last time and forget who they were. Forget that she was fighting against him, that she was not on his side and would never be. She had left her rational thoughts outside, as she had climbed into his chamber. She had forgotten who he was and only knew that he was himself. That he was the man her heart belonged to and that he wanted her just as much as she did him. She was no longer herself and moved without any thought to him. To his form and she sat herself upon his bed, without thinking, without considering her actions. She stroked his cheek and passed her fingertips over his lips, simply following her natural instincts. That were telling her to be as close to him as possible, to disfruit of his company for as long as she could. Her mindless emotions, which urged her not to recoil back, when he opened his grey blue eyes, no doubt awakened by her touch. She simply kept staring at him, as his eyes roamed over her. His eyes that were expressing his disbelief at her being here and he croaked, his voice still weak from sleep: "You're here?" She did not answer to his question and simply kept looking at him, pouring all her emotions into her gaze, as she continued to tenderly stroke his strong jaw.

_In a parked car. In a crowded street. You see your love made complete._

His eyes softened at the look she was giving him and she felt tenderness seep into his eyes, as he sat up and put his hand upon her cheek. His thumb caressed her cheekbone and she closed her eyes at the sensation, which was intensified by weeks of missing him, and leaned into his touch. She heard him whisper longingly: "I know you're a dream, that you are not real, but I'm still glad you are here." Before she could correct him of his assumption, his lips were upon hers and any rational thought that she had left flew out of her mind. She caressed his lips tenderly with her own and parted them, when his tongue seeked entrance into her mouth to explore it. She willingly gave it to him and she felt him pull her closer at the sensation. She sighed into the kiss and the vibrations of the suspire caused him to groan and pull her even closer, so that she was now stradling his lap and automatically her legs fell at each of his sides. She could feel his strong frame close to hers and relished in the heat he was exuding, while she continued kissing him almost desperately. She put her hands on his chest, intent on feeling the masculine muscle beneath it. She felt him rub his hands up and down her back and she moaned inwardly at the caresses. She felt him bunch the fabric at the bottom of her tunic and felt him tug at it, intent to have her free of the fabric. She felt alarm rise within her due to the scar that was on her side and that would reveal to him the identity of the Shadow. But it was faint and he would not see it in the darkness of the room and it all felt too good to stop and she longed to feel her bare skin against his, so she took her hands of his chest and put her soft hands upon his strong, calloused ones and helped him take off her tunic. She was now half-naked before him and his eyes roamed over body. He was looking at her hungrily, inspecting every inch of her creamy skin, and his eyes lingered on her humble breasts. His gaze was so intent that she felt herself growing meek and feared that he would not find her desirable. She crossed her arms over her chest and bit her bottom lip, apprehensive. At the obstruction to his scrutiny, he looked up at her and his eyes became once more tender and he gently uncrossed her arms and whispered: "Don't ever hide yourself from me. You're perfect." She groaned wantonly at the statement and once more lowered her head and pressed her lips upon his.

_Thread is ripping, the knot is slipping. Love is blindness._

The kiss was growing more heated, as he was gently biting her lower lip and as she took his bottom one between hers and sucked on it. The sensation of his warm, bare skin against hers was intoxicating and she wanted to feel more, she wanted, needed more contact. She could feel his desire for her beneath the sheets, that still covered his lower body. She unlaced her fingers from his hair and he grunted displeased at the loss of contact. However he was appeased when he grasped her intent and moaned wantonly against the kiss. She was tugging on the fastenings of her trousers, while keeping her lips on his. But she felt so much burning desire and anticipation and longing that her hands were shaking and she couldn't open them. He broke the kiss off, sensing her difficulties and both breathed heavily. She leaned her forehead against his, as she felt him take her hands and steady them. She closed her eyes, as she felt his infuriantingly steady fingers guide hers in untying the knot that held her trousers together and she shifted so that he could pull down her trousers and then she was completely naked, completely vulnerable to him. But she was not disconcerted at the thought, and her excitement for him clouded her mind. She still had her eyes closed, but she felt him draw away slightly and her body screamed at the distance, before it was calmed again when he passed one of his strong hands down her body starting at her collar bone, passing the valley between her breasts until it could go no further and stopped just above her pelvis. She arched into his touch and moaned promiscuously at the feel of his hands on her skin. She looked down at him and saw that he was studying her body almost reverently and she whispered softly: "Guy."

_Love is clockworks and cold steel. Fingers too numb to feel. Squeeze the handle, blow out the candle. Love is blindness._

Whatever he heard in her tone caused a glint of determination to flash through his eyes and he looked at her now with pure need and lust in his eyes. He flipped them over, so that he was now lying upon her and the pressure, the weight of his body against her was driving her wild. He had gotten out of his covers and his naked body was tightly pressed against hers and she could feel every crevice of his strong form deliciously pin her down. She turned her head to the side at the sensation of him and every part of them so closely pressed together, every particle of their being touching. They were so close that she was sure you could not tell where he began and she ended. They were merging into one and that is what Eloise felt this was- them becoming one, one body, one soul and she embraced him tightly to her, as he kissed her exposed neck and the sensation of his open-mouthed kisses and his slight sucking was making her breathless. She felt her heaving chest press against his and she enjoyed the way she could feel his every move, she could feel his breathing. She felt something hard prod her thigh and she knew that it was the physical proof of his desire for her. Isabella had clued her in about her late night meetings with the stable boy, she had fallen in love with, and right now she thanked her former maid, otherwise she would have been oblivious to what the hard object against her thigh meant. She was growing hotter and hotter, especially in her nether regions and to alleviate the burning she parted her legs and wrapped her creamy thighs around Guy, clinging to him, bringing him even closer. This caused him to cease his kisses on her neck and he emitted a grunt. He attacked her lips with more ferocity now and she could feel his desire closer to her and she was groaning and mewling, the sounds seemingly deranging him, because without warning he guided his manly part to her nether region and drove himself into her with one swift thrust.

_Love is blindness. I don't want to see. Won't you wrap the night around me? Oh my love, Blindness._

He groaned desperately at the feeling of being within her warmth and how perfectly they seemed to fit together. She barely registered his ecstasy through the stinging ache she now felt. When he had penetrated her maidenhood, she had felt, as if she was being torn apart and the feel of him inside her was still uncomfortably satiating. She could not help the few tears that escaped her eyes at the stinging within her. He sensed her discomfort and kissed her cheeks tenderly and whispered: "It will pass. You feel so good. So perfect. It will pass." She clung to him more tightly and he drove himself out, before entering her once more. This time it was not as uncomfortable and the ache was dulling to give way to desire as they were now joined together in every way and she felt him drive himself within her, again and again. She still felt not completely filled and she thought that perhaps he was not driving his whole length into her, like she wanted him to, for fear that he would hurt her, so when he drove himself into her once more she raised her pelvis and met his thrust. She moaned loudly at the feel of him completely submerged in her warmth and saw him double over in pleasure. She could feel his legacy pouch deliciously touching her skin he was hitting a spot inside her, just below her naval that was driving her insane with pleasure. She began meeting his thrusts and the room was completely silent, except for their pleasured, desperate moans and the sound of their skin meeting. She was scratching her nails down his back tenderly and groped his behind to get him even deeper within her and her legs were like vices around his waist, as she clung onto him desperately.

_A little death without mourning. No call and no warning. Baby, a dangerous idea that almost makes sense._

She was meeting his thrust with more vehemence now and him, seeing that she would no longer be passive beneath him, got on his knees and pulled her up with him. She was now straddling his lap, holding onto his shoulders to keep her balance, and she began to lower herself on him, before rising taking his length out of her, before driving it in again by lowering herself on his lap once more. She repeated this pattern and this new sensation of penetration coupled with him nuzzling and kissing her chest, taking her nipples between his lips and sucking them was driving her wild with desire, as she felt the burning progress into an unstoppable savage inferno and she felt her stomach contract almost painfully. She felt something approaching, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and she was soon going to be tipped over. She wanted to throw her head back, but was obstructed by his palm that tenderly lowered her gaze to his. "Look at me." he whispered huskily and at the emotions in his eyes, his unveiled desire that showed her that he was feeling the same as her, she felt herself going over the edge and the rim of her vision become white, as if she had been blinded. She felt intoxicated and she exclaimed as she felt the wave of desire and passion bury her. After she came down from her high, she felt boneless and breathless and she began kissing him to thank him for the ecstasy he had brought her. She had stopped moving above him and was incredibly sensitive to every sensation, every touch, her senses were on alert, though she felt exhausted. For a few moments they simply kissed and she relished the feel of him within her.

_Love is drowning in a deep well. All the secrets and no one to tell. Take the money. Honey. Blindness._

However he still was not satisfied and flipped them over. She was now lying motionless beneath him, utterly exhausted, but she still enjoyed the feeling of him thrusting himself into her. He was pounding into her and her desire was beginning to rekindle, the fire coursing through her becoming once more awakened. His thrusts started to become more erractic and she laced her arms around his neck and simply looked up at him, as she felt desire once more spread through her body and she felt love running through her veins and encompassing her. She wanted to tell him, but she could not find the strength to speak as all of her reserves were being used to deal with the passion within her. So she simply choose to look him in the eye and tell him through her look alone, and she felt she was glowing. She felt his form start to tremble above her, whether it was from the physical exertion or from longing, she did not know and as he looked down at her and understanding dawned in his eyes, she knew he had understood her silent message. As a result he began driving himself into her with increased vehemence and passion and she again felt a wave of desire approaching that would bury her beneath its force. He broke their eye contact and lowered his head to the crook of her neck. She laced her fingers in his hair and smiled beatifically, as she felt him kiss the skin beneath her ear, the shell of her ear and she relished the feel of his hot breath against her equally warm skin as he whispered: "Eloise you feel so good. Don't leave. Don't ever go. I need you. I love you." And at the sound of the confession stated in his deep, raspy voice she felt herself going over the edge once more, while he too stilled above her, crying out and she felt his warm seed being poured into her womb. She looked up at him, still in the throes of his passion and he was supporting himself with his arms, he had gripped the blanket around her head tightly and his head was slightly tipped back in ecstasy. Then he collapsed and she made sure to catch him.

_"Love is blindness. I don't wanna see. Won't you wrap the night around me? Oh my heart, love is blindness" _

He had rolled over and both of them were lying now side by side, breathing heavily trying to catch their breaths. She was looking up incredulously at the ceiling, incredulous at the animalistic desire and ecstasy she had felt. Slightly unbelieving that you could obtain such pleasure from what she had previously assumed to be a simple, carnal act. She started trembling, as she missed the warmth and feel of his body and the room felt so much cooler than before, as the cold night air mercilessly lay upon her over-heated skin. As if sensing her discomfort, Guy reached over and pulled her to him. She snaked her body against his and relished in the feel of his chest rising and falling. She lay her head upon his chest and listened to his still galloping heart beat. She felt him kiss her overheated, almost feverishly-warm forehead and she was lured into sleep by the sound of his beating heart and the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest.


	36. Over the Precipice

Chapter 36

**see AN at the end of the chapter**

* * *

_"I was a heavy heart to carry, but he never let me down. When he had me in his arms, my feet never touched the ground."- Heavy in your arms, Florence+ The Machine_

She was stirred awake by the light of the early morning sun filtering in through the glass of the window. She was nude and she felt equally bare skin upon hers. She cracked open her eyes and gazed up at Guy's face and the memories of last night came back to her. They had made love. She closed her eyes as the bliss of this realization sunk in on her and she relished the warmth of his body against hers and how they seemed to fit together almost perfectly. She opened her eyes once more and for a few seconds she simply studied his face and how innocent and peaceful he looked as he slept. She tenderly passed her hand over his cheek and leaned in to peck his lips. She watched him rest, his body illuminated by the light of early dawn and she simply felt content, as she felt the weight of his arm around her waist.

Then the dreadful realization came to her. She had to leave. Today he would receive the note from Allan and he would believe that she was now a nun, had given herself to god, when truthfully she had been made his completely and absolutely last night. Sorrowfully she gazed upon his face and taking care not to wake him, she slipped out of his arms. She immediately felt the absence of his body and shivered. Last night had been so perfect and she rued to leave him now. She hated that the next time they would meet, if they even met at all, they would be enemies and he would hate her. She furrowed her brows and felt her features contort with sadness. She quickly gathered her clothing, that had been carelessly strewn around last night and dressed herself silently, aware of the soreness of her body that was generated no doubt by their bedroom activity. She remembered the occurences of last night and immediately desire and longing sparked within her. At least, they would have this. Even if they were never able to be together, they would have this. But he thought it had been dream, she remembered him telling her of his assumptions and she overwhelmed by desire had not corrected his belief. This belief of his would only be reinforced, when he read her note, because she was supposed to be at the Abbey. Not here. Not with him. Perhaps it would be best that he would continue to believe that, to spare him of the agony she felt, at having had a taste of what it is like to be with him completely and to know that it shall never happen again. She would spare him the agony, it would be best that he never knew they had been together, that she had been real and what they had done had been so magnifically real. She saw the blood stain on the white sheets and knew that it came from when he had broken through her maidenhead. With agile, noiseless steps she moved toward the bed once more and with her dagger she cut off the red piece of the cloth. She covered him and he would never be able to distinguish between reality and his dream. She felt hurt and pain course through her veins and she could no longer bare to look at his sleeping form. As silently as she had approached his bed, she went to the window and climbed through it, leaving Guy behind.

* * *

He was pacing in front of the outlaws' camp, worried and glancing agitatedly at his surroundings. Last night when he had come back from the ambush, he had come back to find that Eloise was gone and that no one could tell him where she had left off to. He had grown worried and had feared that something had befallen her, but Djaq had tried to appease him by reminding him that she was probably making her nightly route as the Shadow. She had not abandoned her persona, even after she had joined the outlaws and spent her entire day taking care of the poor. He had tried to talk her out of it, because he knew she would grow tired very soon, if she kept up her rigorous routine. But she had been obstinate saying, that she had grown used to being the Shadow and would miss it too much if she simply ceased. But Robin still felt a fearful anticipation take seat in his gut, and he did not know where this feeling had come from. He only knew he was worried about her, and if she did not return soon he would go to Nottingham and see if he could find information about her wherabouts in the gossip of the villagers and the castle servants. He feared that Vasey had captured her and was torturing her in retribution to the humiliation she had caused him and Count Frederick and the fact that the Count had not offered Vasey the help he had promised, after his bride had left him at the altar.

He was shaken out of his thoughts, when he heard horse hooves approaching and he saw Eloise ride toward him on Lark. He sighed in relief and approached her, after she had dismounted the horse. She walked toward him as well, a bright, yet hesitant smile on her face. She looked different, but Robin could not pinpoint what it was. She looked happier, more content and he almost had the illusion that she was glowing, but it was probably only the early morning sun gleaming off of her skin and hair. As he looked at her, he forgot that he was supposed to admonish her for leaving the camp without notifying him and he simply glanced down at her, feeling warmth spread through his chest at her sight. Determination packed him and he lowered his lips to hers. He saw her eyes widen in alarm, as his face approached hers and she put the tip of her fingers on his lips to impede his further descent. She whispered, almost fearful of the answer: "Robin, what are you doing?" He drew back and raised an eyebrow at her, before smiling teasingly: "What do you think?" She lowered her eyes and shook her head and stated: "Please don't." Then she turned around and went back to Lark. He grabbed her by the shoulder, stopping her in her distancing herself from him. He felt angry at her rejection and said through gritted teeth: "Why not? Do you not care for me?" His questioning tone held a hint of desperation and he feared the answer, because right now he was putting himself at her mercy, was putting his heart in her hands and he wanted her to feel the same as him. She turned around and looked at him tenderly: "Of course I care for you, Robin. You are my dearest friend and I admire you and your courage." He didn't feel satisfied at her answer and spat: "You know that's not what I mean." Seeing that she made no efforts to say anything in response, he stated: "I am asking you if you care for me in the way, I have grown to love you. I am asking you if after King Richard has returned, you and I will be together and you will be my wife." As her features contorted with agony and sorrow and she turned her head to the side, Robin felt dread and sorrow packed him. He knew he had his answer, but he needed to hear her say the words out loud, because he still had a tiny ember of hope within him. He grabbed her by the shoulder, almost as if he did not wish to let her go and at the contact, she flinched. "Please" His plea seemed to draw her out of her selective mutism and she sorrowfully shook her head: "Robin, I do love you. You are my idol, someone I strive to be, how could I not love you? I just don't love you the way you want me to love you." He shook her slightly, as he felt the cold sting of rejection pierce his heart. He questioned desperately: "Why? Perhaps you could grow to love me?" She looked down and said with a pained look. "Robin, I can't. I can't grow to love you. Not... when I already love Guy. I can't grow to love you the way I love him." He recoiled at the sound of her confession and felt hatred and disgust course through him, directed at Gisborne. Gisborne, his greatest enemy. His heart stopped when he felt realization dawn upon him and he questioned, his voice ominous as he already feared to know the answer: "Where were you last night?" She raised her distressed gaze at him and looked at him beseechingly. And then he knew. She had been with him and hatred spread within him as he spat: "You let him fuck you last night." At the sound of the vulgar word she started slightly and he knew that she considered her night with Gisborne last night, not as something purely carnal, not something meaningless.

His features contorted with distress and he screamed at her with pain coating his words: "How could you? How could you give yourself to the man, who is planning to kill King Richard? How yould you cheat me so?" She shook her head and the tears that had welled up in her eyes started to flow. "I'm sorry, Robin." she sobbed. At her apology her felt slightly appeased. Perhaps if she regretted her actions last night, perhaps she would fall out of love. Perhaps, there was still a chance. He questioned wearily: "You regret last night?" She closed her eyes and as she shook her head, he felt cruel defeat fill him and break his heart: "No. I'm sorry for hurting you. But I can't regret what happened last night. I can't regret loving him." He closed his eyes, as he felt his eyes sting. No, he would not shed a tear over her. He felt scorn fill him and said: "As soon as King Richard is safely reinstated in England, Gisborne shall hang. What you are fighting for will see him hang as a traitor. Will see him receive his comeuppance. Or have your loyalties changed?" She shook her head and with a headstrong expression stated: "Robin my loyalties lie with England. I shall fight for England until the day I die. I will never give up on England and even though I do love him, I shall never choose him over England." He looked at her and he no longer felt hope upon gazing her, he only felt sorrow and his still flaming affections. But he knew she would never be his. Even after Gisborne had been executed, the man would still keep a hold of her heart and would forever be between them. She approached him and at seeing his despondent gaze, she smiled waterly at him and enveloped him into a tight embrace. He at first did not hug her back, but he still felt the same comfort in her arms, the same contentment and she was still silently consoling him. He tried to build up a barrier between his emotions and the girl, who accessed them so easily, but he could not and he melted into her embrace. He buried his head in her red mane and inhaled her sweet scent. He relished the warmth of her body and closed his eyes as she whispered: "If I had been kinder on myself, I would have chosen you. You do not know how many times I have wished that my heart was still available, so that I could have given it to you, without a second thought. But I can't change the path my heart has chosen." And at that he felt devastation spread within him, engulf him while he simply buried his face into her fiery-red hair and he stood, clinging onto the love of his life, all the while knowing that she was not his to have.

* * *

He held the piece of parchment in his hand. The piece of parchment Allan had handed him and he had lost count of how many times he had read over the words, written in her neat caligraphy. He read that she had taken the cloth and given herself to God, he read that she had devoted her life to the Lord. And he could not believe the words on the paper, because just last night she had been with him and he refused to believe that the best thing to have happened to him was a dream. He refused to believe that he had only imagined making love to her, that his mind had conjured all of the sensations, when they had felt so blissfully real. He refused to believe that she had not been his last night and she had not given herself to him completely. He had awakened to soft skin upon his and when he had seen her silent form in his bed he had known that his imagination had conjured her, that only his desperate longing had caused his mind to weave a hallucination of her, like it had many times before. But last night it had felt so painfully, wonderfully, ecstatically real and it agonized him to think that his mind had just conjured it. Yet he had no proof that last night had really occured, he had awoken to find himself alone in his vast bed, no proof of last night present. And he held a confirmation of his fears. Her note sealed with the oficial insignia of the Mother Superior. He felt his breath leave him at the realisation that she had given herself to God. That she was now forever out of his reach. That she would never be his, yet that he had given himself so completely to her and last night he had let himself believe that she had been just as much his, as he was hers. He had known that she was a dream and that he would awake only to grow even more yearning for her, after his dream. To even think of the images his mind conjured caused arousal to storm within him. He could vividly recall her soft, warm skin beneath his hands. Her perfect body, the way she had gazed up at him and the look that had caused him to confess himself completly to her. He could still hear her soft mewls, that had driven him mad. He could still recall how she had looked beneath him in the throes of passion, her red-hair beautifully fanned out against the white pillows. How tenderly she had smiled at him and how lovingly she had gazed upon him with her cornflower-blue pupils that had been dilated with lust. He still wanted her.

He saw Allan look at him with a pitying expression and he felt indignation grow within him. He had never required anyone's pity and he most certainly wouldn't want his. He gritted his teeth and ordered him: "Saddle my horse." Allan's pitying expression turned to surprise and he questioned him: "Where are you going?" Guy felt determination course through him as he remembered the way she had smiled beatifically while he had been above her. "To the convent. To get her." Guy answered through gritted teeth. Allan's expression became alarmed and he stated: "She asked to be left alone. I think that perhaps you should respect her wishes." He felt rage roar through him at his squire giving him orders and at the content of those orders. He packed him by the collar of his shirt and stated fiercely: "She has a life to lead here." Allan looked up at him, his eyes frightful, but he still managed to ground out: "What with the Sheriff searching for her, thirsting for her blood. If you bring her back, he will kill her." He recoiled and let go of Allan's shirt, as the truth of his words start to sink in. Vasey had been intently searching for her and he knew he would not be able to protect her, if Vasey found her. She would hang for her impudence and her escaping. He felt helplesness weigh him down like lead and he balled his fist before banging it on the the wall at his side and grunting in anger. He closed his eyes. He would have to let her go, because at least she was alive at the convent. She would lead a comfortable life, a safe life, where she would be protected from Vasey's cruelty. But he would never have her. Yet he knew that if he brought her back, she would die and then she would be completely gone. He would not even have the consolation of knowing that she still existed, somewhere out there. She would be completely lost from him. He had to let her go, even though it was the hardest thing he ever felt like he had to endure.

* * *

She pulled her mask over her eyes and adjusted her hood on her head, as she gazed over Locksley Village. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and she felt painfully exposed, painfully visible to all, who would care to gaze upon her. She had never been out during sunlight as the Shadow, but she had felt it necessary, because as she had walked past Locksley on her way back to the outlaw's camp, after ambushing a tax collector, she had seen how the guards of Nottingham had walked out of the villager's home with their only prized possessions, while the innocents ran after them, begging them to leave the only thing of value they owned. She had watched with indignant eyes, as they disregarded the beseeching people and had carried the items to the stables, where the items would be assembled before the thieves took their spoils and presented them to the avaricious eyes of the Sheriff. She had grown determined to return the possession to the villagers and to teach Vasey a lesson for his avarice. Rationally she knew, that she should have gotten Robin and the other outlaws. She should have seeked their assistance, but she felt invincible, now that she had learned how to be apt at different weapons and she felt cockily sure, that she could solve this problem herself.

Agilely, she moved toward the stables. She was mindful to not have anyone see her, not the guards and not even the villagers, whose excitement at seeing the Shadow and concluding its intent could alert the authorities to her presence. She would undetectedly fulfill the charge she had set upon herself and would leave without being seen, like she had always done in her nightly raids. She moved with agile steps and she knew her attire was revealing of the hooded figure's identity as the Shadow, but it was still better than walking through Locksley without a disguise, as Eloise. She felt dread settle into her stomach, she had always been weary of wandering through Locksley, especially after her confrontation with Guy. Today it was even worse, because she did not have the shadows of the night concealing her. Still she moved intentfully to the stables before gaining access and stopping when she saw a male form standing beside the treasure. She felt relief course through her when she recognized Allan's lanky frame. And she sighed. He looked up at the sound of the wooden door opening and he looked exasperated at her and shook his head before stating: "No, Eloise. I can not help you now. You need to leave before..." He was cut off mid-sentence, when his eyes widened and Eloise heard the door open behind her. She dreaded turning around, but it was like her treacherous body needed to look at the form of her menace, to confirm the presence of the person who could be her downfall. She turned around and saw Guy standing before her, looking at her with a furious gaze. He only looked at her with hate, wrath and repulsion at her and it contrasted so greatly with how he had looked upon her just last night. She remembered thinking that the next time, they would meet they would meet as enemies. But she would have never guessed that it would be so soon. He was standing between her and her only escape route and she felt defeat start spreading through her body. Stupidly she ran from him, though she did not know what she wished to achieve. Perhaps her adrenaline and fear for her life had caused her to hope, that she could run through the wooden wall. Her hopes were cut disappointingly short, when she felt his arms encircling her. She did not know what happened next through her shocked haze like she had been dormant and was awakened by the impact of her back with the hay-covered floor. She felt paralyzed and all fight seeped out of her. She knew she had been defeated and she only felt dread and fear course through her body, as to what awaited her now.

Guy smiled maliciously down at her, a cruel smirk twisting his lips and she simply looked at him, expectant of her fate. He said with scorn: "Now let's see who is behind the mask. I wish to see your face, while you die." She felt the cool leather of his gloves brush against her skin and she felt him lowering the cloth, which covered the lower portion of her face. At the sight of her lips, the same that had kissed him so reverently last night, his eyes widened with recognizition, before that sentiment gave way to disbelief and shock and he shook his head and tore the mask off her face, needing to confirm what he already knew. At the sight of her face and the discovery of the identity of the Shadow his handsome features contorted with betrayal and he shook his head, unaccepting of the truth. She simply gazed up at him, impassively. His features were contorted with agony as he discovered her betrayal and she waited for him to gaze upon her with hate. She was expecting him to start detesting her, but he simply looked down at her agonized and shook his head saying in a broken voice: "No. Not you!"

Then rage filled his eyes, his nostrils flared and he glared down at her murderously, yet still pained before he stood and ran out of the stables, but not before hissing at Allan, who had been staring at the proceedings with shock and sorrow at her discovery: "Apprehend her and take her to the castle." He exited the stables and she exhaled and slumped on the ground, feeling numb. She felt the vibrations of Allan's reluctant footsteps, spreading through the hay-covered ground. But she only lay there unmoving and lifelessly. She felt him lift her up and carry her slumped, defeated form to his horse, before both of them rode off in the direction of Nottingham.

* * *

Allan rode through the forest as quickly as he could. After he had been dismissed by a furious, devastated Gisborne, he had taken his horse and he had known that he had to get to Robin as quickly as he could. To him it felt as if any second he did not inform Robin of Eloise's capture and her pending execution, that it was a second wasted, that the second only confirmed her demise. In his betrayed, furious haze Gisborne had taken Eloise to Sheriff Vasey and had told the cruel, depraved man of her identity. Vasey had not seemed shocked at the turn of events, but rather delighted and Allan knew that he was fiendishly ecstatic to see Eloise hang. The man hated her and his dislike had only grown after she had made an exhibition out of him in front of everyone, who had assembled at her wedding. It had also irked him, that because of her he had been deprived of Count Frederick's assistance in Operation 'Shah Mat'. So the Sheriff had been delighted that she was now in his clutches and he could receive the sick satisfaction of seeing her hang from her neck. Gisborne had not thought his actions through, because he had been out of his mind. He had been out of his mind at discovering her deceit. Discovering that all this time, she had fought against him. Allan had thought that Gisborne was going to strike her, when she had proudly declared that she worked for Robin Hood. He remembered the scene vividly:

_"I always knew you were a treacherous snake." Vasey hissed at her contemptously, though still obviously delighted at her misfortune. "The little leper was leading us on this entire time, Gisborne." The leather-clad man stood to the side and was fixing her with an angry, betrayed gaze. Allan simply watched helplessly, as Vasey circled the girl, who had been tied to a chair, like a vulture circling his prey. Eloise held her head raised high, unwilling to admit defeat, or to show contrition at her actions and Allan could see her usual headstrong, fierce spirit returning. She was not detered by Vasey's cruel, vulgar insults and taunts and simply kept looking him with a proud smirk decorating her face. "Now what exactly do you do for Hood? I bet you are his little whore, right?" He saw Gisborne flinch at that and his look darkened, but Allan could see that he was awaiting her response. She smiled cruelly, no longer caring what any of the present thought of her and appearantly only intent to cause Gisborne more pain and she said in a proud, self-assured voice and raised her head even higher, coquetishly answering: "I work for Robin Hood. I am dedicated to Robin Hood. I'll do whatever he requires of me." Gisborne had seemed to implode at that statement and had furiously stalked toward her and Allan knew that he would strike her for her appearant devotion to Hood. He was like a man possessed, completely deranged by betrayal and jealousy. But he was stopped from laying violent hands on her by Vasey, who simply put a constraining hand on the brooding man's chest. He in turn had reluctantly complied, but still fumed furiously. Vasey smirked down at her cruelly and stated: "I don't know what you are so happy about, my dear. Your little stunt will cost you your life. You'll die, because of your treachery, because of your little tryst with Hood, and loverboy will be unable to stop it. I'll make sure of it." Vasey had turned his back to her then, victoriously thinking he had gotten the last word, moving to exit the chambers she would be confined in. He had been stopped in his tracks by her taunting, gleeful laugh. The three of the turned back, confused at the source of her delight and had seen her smile brightly, before she stated with complete assurance: "You think that frightens me? You think I care? I'm at peace with myself, that I shall die. And I shall be happy to go, because I will be dying for justice and I know that as long as Robin is alive, people like you shall never win. Your plans are bound to fail. And I shall leave this world with this certainty and with the joy of knowing that I died for him. That I died for England and Robin Hood and I would die a thousand times for him without a second thought." She had declared with vehemence. This had proven too much for Guy, who had slumped at her words, who had seemed agonized by her willing sacrifice for Robin. Her appearant love for the outlaw had proven too much for him and he had stalked out of the chamber furiously banging the door shut behind him. _

He dismounted his horse, when he saw the outline of the outlaws' camp before him. He knew he would be badly received by the others, who were still furious at him for his betrayal. But he had to tell the others, he needed to save Eloise from the noose. He was fond of her, because she had been the closest thing to a friend he'd had in the castle and she had been a source of comfort and support, even though he knew she still resented him for his duplicity. He could also not let her die, because he was impressed by her courageous spirit. How she had defended her beliefs even in the face of death and that she was willing to die for what she believed in, to completely sacrifice herself. He could not let her die, because he knew how much his friends cared for this girl and, even though they hated him, he still felt kinship toward each and every one. So he moved toward the outlaws' camp with brisk steps and he saw their alarm, when they recognized his form. He saw how John quickly moved toward him and menacingly stood before him, his sword trained on his throat to prevent him from coming any further. Robin stalked up to him and looked down at him with a disapproving sneer, his arms crossed out infront of his chest and asked him: "What are you doing here?" Allan stated with agitation: "It's Eloise. They discovered that she is the Shadow and she is bound to hang the day after tomorrow." Robin's eyes widened and he looked at the others, who also seemed alarmed at the news, but he still glared at Allan suspiciously: "This could be just one of Gisborne's ploys. Why should I trust you and think this is not a trap?" Allan felt indignation rise within him at Robin's stubbornness, that made Eloise's rescue even more unlikely with every passing second. He stated fiercely: "Look. You don't have to trust me, but this is her life we are talking about and I know you all care for her, and if you don't do anything, she will die and you will never be able to forgive yourselves, because she would sacrifice her life for every single one of you." With that he turned around and left the band of outlaws and their leader behind, feeling torn.

* * *

**When I read your reviews for last chapter I was both overjoyed, because you guys seemed to approve of the love scene, but I also went: "OH Shit, are me and Eloise truly so predicatble?" A clue... yes! (God I do love the Malevolent one, even if I want to slap him in ze face sometimes) Yet i do feel really bad about what I wrote and i really hope you don't start hating the story and Eloise. I am trying to keep her as human and kind of flawed as possible and her greatest flaw is how indecisive she is and how she does love guy, but she still can't truly get over what he does. My characters are all supposed to be flawed and human. for example robin is generous and altruistic, but he is cocky and arrogant and wants to have recognition for what he does. Guy is supposed to be haunted and tormented and he is dedicted and loyal and he has the principle of how betrayal is the worst thing one can do. He is a victim of circumstance and he was denied affection so much in his life. So when eloise comes along and shows him that sliver of affection, he just desperately grabs onto it and won't let go. He is kind of obsessive. Anyways, I did feel bad about having eloise leave him the next day, but I finished writing the story already and if I changed I would have to rewrite all the last thirteen chapters. It would completely change the story. I am posting a few chapters now, kind as a gift of retribution to y'all. Shit is really hitting the fan now. I hope you enjoy.**

**P.S.: I am writing a new story right now. It is all original characters and will be posted on and here if I find a proper fandom for it. The main male character is based on Guy of Gisborne (of course) and later John Porter. And I am actually quite excited about writing the fic. Our hero is cursed on his dying bed and he is condemned to wander the earth for all eternity as a ghost, but then in the 21st century he meets Robin, our heroine, and... **


	37. The Lie of Angels

Chapter 37

_"So break yourself against my stones and switch your pity in my soul. You never needed any help, you sold me out to save yourself. And I won't listen to your shame. Angels lie to keep control. My love was punished long ago. If you still care don't ever let me know. "- Snuff, Slipknot _

He was moving through the alleys of the port town in England in the pursuit of the man he had just wounded with his arrow. His king, his sovereign, the man that was supposed to be invincible in his eyes, but who was scrambling away from him like a frightened rodent. He had to smile sadistically at the helplessness of this man, who was supposed to be his superior, but who Guy dominated over at the moment, who was in the palm of his hands, at his mercy. The man, who was supposed to take care of his people, whose god-ordained task was to watch over his charges, but who had abandoned them in favour of the Catholic church. Who fought a war, that brought no advantages to his own people, but benefitted the church. A man, who had fled from his responsibilities like a coward and Guy despised men like that. His father had done the same thing. He had become a crusader, had dedicated his life fighting for the church, but had fled from his responsibility toward his family. Had abandoned his wife and his children, so that he could bask in the glory of recognition. But then he had returned and he had returned not strong like Guy had expected, but sickly and weak. He had been a leper. That was the only reason he had come back, because their sovereign no longer had need of him, had rejected him because of his ailment and his father had brought home his sickness, had come home to be a burden on his family, had expected them to care for him, when he had disregarded them for as long as Guy could remember. He would not allow King Richard to return to England. Not when he had abandoned his people and now only came home, because he saw no chance of victory in the Holy Lands. He only returned now to be a burden on the people of England and Guy would not allow it. Not when King Richard's death offered so many advantages to him. So he predatorially went after their wounded King, who was lying upon the ground, his injuries having defeated him. Guy would be merciful toward their sovereign he would put him out of his misery.

He was looking at the pathetic man at his feet, who was King of England and he felt impossibly strong. He smiled down maliciously at him and was about to raise his sword, when he heard hasty footsteps run toward him. He looked up at the source of the distraction and saw Eloise running toward him with an alarmed look on her face. He was angry at her now that he knew of her betrayal to him, but his need to have her was so much greater as he looked at her running toward him, wearing a white dress, her cheeks flushed red at the heat and her red curls cascading down her back. She ran toward him and stationed herself between him and King Richard and looked at him obstinately. He felt himself grow angry at her wilfulness and her attempt to once more thwart his plans. "Guy! Stop!" she beseeched him, but he would not give into her wishes, not when he was so close to getting everything he wanted: affluence, power, her. He swung his sword at her, but made sure that it would go wide and bellowed at her angrily: "Eloise get out of my way." She jumped back from his blade and as he stepped toward her, she took steps back moving closer to the injured sovereign on the ground. She shook her head, the fierce glint of determination shining in her eyes: "No. I have been fighting my whole life for England. Do you really think I would let you kill England?" His fury rose within him at her incooperation to his plans. "I will do this." he stated through gritted teeth "I will kill him and get power and we will be together." At his plans for her, she lowered her arms and a mocking smile twisted her lips. She scoffed derogatorily and fixed him with a cruel, but self-assured gaze: "I'd rather die than be with a monster like you, Guy of Gisborne." He felt dread and the cold sting of rejection pierce him, as she cruelly proceeded to break his heart with what happened next. She said to him: "I love Robin Hood." And she had looked down at her declaration, as if she had just realized it herself and she smiled so genuinely and beautifully at the realization that it pained Guy to see her happiness. She bit her lips and stated confirmingly: "I love Robin Hood. I'm going to marry Robin Hood." She raised her head and looked pridefully at him, as she declared loudly: "I love Robin Hood." He felt his heart stop and he felt pain course through him at her words. He felt jealousy and he completely forgot where he was, what he needed to do and that he had an outstretched sword in his hand. All that mattered was the girl, who was standing before him, the only person he loved in this world and for whom he had done everything, so that he could offer her a comfortable and fulfilled life. And she loved Robin Hood. The man, who had been a thorn in his side for his whole life. The man he despised since infancy, the man who always seemed to best him without any arduous efforts on his part. By proclaiming her love for this very same man she was cruelly trampling his fragile heart that he had given her trustfully, and he felt agony that threatened to overwhelm him. He should hate her because she had proven to be just like everyone else- contemptous toward him and treacherous to a fault. Yet he couldn't because she had become a part of him, and he still needed her with vehemence, even when she had declared that she couldn't stand the sight of him. He would not give up on her and so he moved forward and pulled her into his arms. He would not let go of her. She was supposed to be with him. He heard her gasp in surprise and he felt himself furrow his brows in confusion at her response. Surely she had not believed that he would have let go of her this easily. Surely she did not believe that once he knew she existed, he would hand her to Hood without a fight.

He felt her trembling in his arms, and the tremors seemed to bring him back to reality. He felt a hot, sticky liquid seeping on his hands and he became perceptive of the weight of the sword that he was holding, that he had driven through her, when he had embraced her and he could hear her gasps of pain. The realization of what he had done dawned on him and felt his heart breaking and the grief and guilt built up within him and to alleviate some of the tension, he buried his face into her red curls and let go off a strangled sob. He felt his arms grow weary of her weight, unable to support her and the last thing he saw was her pained cornflower-blue orbs, as she stared at him in accusation and fell to the ground with his sword embedded through her stomach.

* * *

Guy sat up after awakening from his nightmare. He was breathing heavily, as he fought to slow his galloping heart. He put a trembling hand on his sweaty forehead. The grief he had felt in his dream had been so realistic and he could still sense it. Could still sense his distress at her exclamation and the fact that he had killed her.

_I love Robin Hood_

He closed his eyes, as the agony that washed over him at her words returned with vehemence. He knew that he would always be haunted by those four words. He knew that these words would taunt him for as long as he lived. The realisation that the woman he loved, that he adored only held scorn for him and that she loved the man, who had been a thorn in his side, who he had fought against all his life. He remembered how passionately she had stated that she would die for the outlaw and Guy felt his features contort with agony. At her love for Hood, at her betrayal of him. Of how he had loved her and she had only played with his feelings. Had led him on, used his feelings for her gain. She had lied to him from the beginning and he had trusted in her and her supposed virtue. He thumped his head back in agony. It was not supposed, it was not a farce, her kindness was real, because she fought for justice and compassion. She risked her life daily for the poor. He was the depraved one here. He was the monster, as she had told him in her dreams. But she could have saved him, she could have absolved him of his sins. He had been willing to be a better man for her. But she had never given him the chance. She had never wanted to save him. She had never cared for his redemption. She had seen in him a tool she could use, as he was blinded by his affections and she could manipulate him to achieve her and Hood's purpose. And as he remembered how vulnerable he had been before her and how pathetically weak, he cringed. She had surely laughed at him along with Hood. Had surely mocked him and his unwanted attentions. And he felt anger grow directed at her. She had used him and she would hang for her duplicity. He would get rid of the dread he felt at this fact. He would contend himself with all the power and affluence he would achieve through 'Shah Mat', but somehow he knew that all the gold in the world would never fill the void she had left in him, when she had taken his heart.


	38. Hate Enough To Love

Chapter 38

_"So save your breath, I will not care. I think I made it very clear, you couldn't hate enough to love. Is that supposed to be enough?" Snuff- Slipknot_

The silvery light of the moon was illuminating her. The thin strip of light, which had filtered throught the narrow window of her chamber had fanned out and now covered her form. She was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn and she felt as if she was in a stupor. She had hugged her knees to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself, because she felt numb and worst she felt fear like venom coursing through her bloodstream and tear through her haze like a sharp dagger. She would die in two days, the day after tomorrow at the earliest light of dawn, after the moon had retreated and the sun would just begin its journey through the sky above. She would hang. She would suffer the same fate that all scoundrels had to endure. The same fate that Isabella had to endure, the same fate anyone who crossed the Sheriff had to endure. The day after tommorow, at the earliest light of dawn, she would be escorted to the gallows, where they would proceed to cut off her hair, in an attempt to humiliate her further. Then they would put the noose around her neck and kick away the stool placed beneath her feet. The minimal height would cause her not to break her neck, but her suffering would be extended, as she would strangle to death. She was scared. She was not at peace like she had proudly declared during Vasey's interrogation. It was not that she resented dying for her cause. No, she could not imagine anything more worthy. Any fate more noble than being a martyr for England and for Robin Hood. What she had said was not a lie. She would die for Robin without a second thought, because he was her friend, and because he was the epitome of hope and if he died, all hope for England would accompany him to his grave. But she was scared nonetheless, because she had reflected upon her life, since the guards had brought her up to her chambers- to her prison, in the highest, most remote tower of Nottingham Castle. She had reflected on her life and she had found that she was dissatisfied. That upon reflecting on her deeds, she had been discontent. She had been thinking about her greed. Her greed for affection in any form she could find it. It had sprung from the events of her childhood. She had always desired her father's love. The love of a man that despised her, that was indifferent to her due to her gender. A man, who was aloof and indifferent to all and any. She had desired his love. She had desired to be the only thing in this world that could have invoked any care in this man, who had been so heartless. She had done everything, and she would have given all for his love. But he never wished for anything. And all her life she had lived in chains, she had bound herself to this man. And she had started to despise him, to hate him for being her captor. She had hated him, just as much as she had loved him.

When he had died, she had felt as if she could finally breathe again, she had felt free, she had felt relief, because the chains that had bound her to him had dissipated. She had gone to Knighton, to her uncle with so much hope. She had gone to her uncle with the determination to never relive the demons of her childhood, to never relive the same destructive avarice. She had been hopeful, because finally she thought she had been freed of her chains. But then he came. And she cursed him, cursed him for irrevocably causing her the same confinement once more, the same greed. Perhaps, if her father had been more caring, had been less indifferent toward her, she would never have met him and never fallen in love with him. But it was simply enough to know that he existed, for her to fall in love with him. She had never been kind to herself in life. She had never considered what actions would ensure her ultimate happiness. No, she had simply loved and she had longed to be loved in return. She closed her eyes and lowered her head sorrowfully, as she remembered her proud declarations during Vasey's interrogation. She remembered the insinuations she had given. She had been so angry. She had been furious at being helpless in Vasey's clutches. Unable to flee, yet unwilling to admit defeat. She had not wanted to appear weak, had been proud and self-assured, eventhough internally she had wept. She had wept at her imprisonment and she had wept, that Guy had found out her betryal. She had wept eventhough she knew that they would be enemies. She had wept at this inevitable turn of fate. Had wept at the fact that he hated her now, but she still loved him all the same. She had not looked at him, though she could feel his contemptous glare on her skin. She had not looked at him for fear that she would fall to her knees and beg his forgiveness, she would beg for his love. No, she had not looked at him. She had exclaimed her devotion to Robin, how she would do anything he wanted of her without a second thought and out of the corner of her eyes, she had seen him stalk up to her angrily, no doubt with the intention to strike her. At that moment, she had looked at him and the emotions in his eyes had caused her heart to be bent mercilessly. He had looked at her with hatred, with contempt in his eyes. At that moment she knew she had lost him. It was at that exact moment, not when Vasey had declared that she would be executed in front of any, who would care to come. Her death would be paraded in front of the eyes of the citizens of Nottinghamshire. Her death would be put on display like the antics of a jester. She had not been aware that she had lost Guy, until she had seen the way he had looked at her.

It did not matter what he thought of her. She would die in two days. She would leave this realm and if fates were kind she would join her mother and her uncle. She thought of her uncle and she wondered if he had died at peace. She had not been there to assist his crossing-over, and the thought of how his last moments had been, plagued her mind. But Mary, her aunt Mary had been waiting for him. She had been waiting for him, since her death and the pains of their separation had only been preparing them for an eternity of bliss. Like Abelard and Eloise. Any hardships they had to endure, the unfortunate circumstances of their love were naught but preparations. She refused to believe that God was so cruel to make two people fall in love, but then keep them separated for all eternity. She knew that Abelard and Eloise had found each other once more, after they had died and that their plight would not have gone uncompensated. No, they had waited and they had found each other. She would wait for him. Even if he hated her for her duplicity, for her lying. She would wait for him, even if the possibilty remained that he would no longer want her. She would wait for him, because she would wait for him for all eternity. She would wait for him in the hopes that perhaps fates would look more kindly upon them after death.

Still she did not want to die. She was not ready to leave this world. Not when Robin still needed her. Not when King Richard's return from the Holy Land was upon them. Not when the squalor that the innocent people of Nottinghamshire had to endure for so long was so close to its end. Not when Vasey was still alive and scheming to abolish King Richard and justice. Not when his rule promised such tyranny and pain to all. Not when there was still the possibility that evil could prevail. She knew that she would never rest at peace, if she did not die with the certainty that all would be well. She would be in torment forever. She could not die, not now. Robin still needed her. England still needed her. And she would be damned if she let down England.

* * *

He could smell the asphyxiating scent of smoke. It was fusing with the damp air of the castle, eminated by the humidity of the dew that lay like a invisble blanket on the stone walls of Nottingham Castle. In all the years that Guy of Gisborne had worked for Vasey, he had spent his days in Nottingham Castle. He had become used to the almost putrid smell that lingered in the corridors of the palace. The humid odour was something that he had gotten used to and that he no longer perceived. But when mixed with the smoky scent of fire, it disconcerted him. This combination was unusual, especially so far from the kitchen. Especially so close to her chambers. Dread started to weigh him down, as he thought what had caused the smell. He could see the equally confused expression of Allan and he knew he was not imagining it. He bolted and ascended the stairs to her room, as fast as his legs could carry him. He could see smoke coming out of her room and panicked he scrambled for the keys. He ripped open the door and looked around frantically in search of her form. But he could not see anything, because the room was bathed in thick fog, that completely obscured his vision. He waited impatiently until the fog had dissipated slightly due to the open door and then moved inside, frantically searching for Eloise. He could not see her, but then he discovered the blanket she had tied to the window sill. She had escaped. "Eloise," he bellowed frantically, as if his screaming could stop her escape. Stop her from returning to Hood. He turned around, adamant to pursue her for she could not have gotten too far, and then he saw her running, trying to escape the room behind his back. "Eloise," he called once again, but she was not detered and made for the door. He started running, but he knew that she could possibly outrun him. He had seen her agility as the Shadow. Allan arrived and was able to stop her escape. He captured her and she started struggling uselessly, savagely against his unrelenting grip. Fuy rose within him and with long strides he stalked up to the distressed girl, grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to the side further into the room. She fell to her knees and as he paced in front of her predatorially, looking at her with indignation and betrayal flashing in his eyes, she heaved with breath and kept her back to him, as if she could not stand looking at him.

* * *

Her plan had failed. She had thought that perhaps she could have once more escaped Nottingham Castle, just like she had last time. She had felt just as invincible and she had felt the same adrenaline pack her and course through her veins like liquid fire. But Guy and Allan had captured her and now she was lying on her knees and her excitement was giving way to defeat. She breathed heavily to calm the galloping pace of her heart and she felt the cold stupor of defeat and dread encompass her once more. Behind her she could her Guy's heavy pacing, but she kept her back to him, lest he see her distress. Her arms were supporting her form, so that she did not completely fall to the ground, but her arms were trembling from the exhaustion of holding herself up. Eloise was shocked at her weakness. Her body was so tired that she could no longer carry out the simplest tasks. She was drained. The last months, her new life in Nottinghamshire had drained her. The secrecy, the intrigue, her feelings, her agony. They had all drained her and her body was for the first time showing her how weary it truly was. She bowed her head and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Eloise had always been a melancholic child, but she had still always felt energetic and lively. That had been taken from her. For the first time it dawned on her how much she had truly changed.

"It's over, Eloise" she heard Guy's deep voice behind her and she resisted the urge to nod her head in acquiescence. Yes, it seemed to be over, because she despised the woman she had become. How indecisive she had been, not wanting to forsake her country nor her affections, how her life had become so complicated. She continued to tremble and listen to him pacing up and down, the melody of his heavy footsteps functioning like a perverse soothment. She longed to look back at him, but she knew that if she looked back at him and saw his hatred for her, she would give up completely. And that she could not do. She was adamant to keep fighting. Still she treacherously longed for him, for her executioner. She was now no longer sure if she was trembling out of exhaustion or out of longing. His baritone voice broke the symphony of his pounding footsteps and he spat: "It's over. You betrayed me, and I shall make sure that you hang for your duplicity." She felt her eyes sting at his cruel, hateful tone. He no longer looked upon her with love. She remembered how his voice had sounded that night, when he had told her he loved her. And it pained her that the pitch was so similar, while still being different. "You used me." his voice rose and something akin to desperation seeped into his tone. Anger rose in her at that. She had used him. Had made use of his affections for her, but not consciously. And never with the intent to hurt him. She had reveled in his affections, because they had provided her with fulfilment, as she had cared for him just as much. She had cared for him, because despite everything she had seen a different side to him. He had said that she brought that side out in him. That he wanted her affections for him, so that he could receive remittal from his sins.

Her eyes widened, he had used her just as much as she had used him. She felt betrayal coursing through her vein like hot liquid iron and she felt indignation rise within her at his hyprocacy. She turned around and said in a measured voice: "You used me as well." She raised her eyes to his face and saw him looking at her with confusion and surprise temporarily clouding the anger in his eyes. He said nothing and she continued looking at him unhappily: "You used me. You say you love me, but you know nothing about me. The Shadow, Robin Hood, that is what I am. How can you love me, if you despise everything I stand for, everything I am?" she looked into his grey-blue eyes beseechingly, but he kept observing her silently, impassively. She could see a glint of something in his eyes, but her pain at her realization prevented her from examining it further. She snorted softly and then voiced her painful discovery in a whisper: "You never loved me. You loved the idea of being with me. You were in love with some ill-conceived notion that I could save you. You put this burden upon me for the second we met, but I could have never saved you. Especially if you do not truly want to be saved." She could no longer bear looking at this opportunistic man, for she felt her heart being bent out of shape every second she continued gazing upon him. She bowed her head and felt tears welling in her eyes, at the discovery that it was not her he loved, but that she was only a tool for him to achieve another of his goals. Silence had descended upon them and if she had not felt his presence, she could have sworn that he had left the chamber.

"You silly child." he spat venomously and at his caustic tone breaking the tense silence in the room, she started. She felt dread packing her, as his anger at her seemed to fill the atmosphere of the room. She did not dare look up at him in fear of provoking him further. He approached her quickly and went out to reach for her. She flinched back from his touch and looked up at him to see his furious gaze upon her. He took no note of her dread and simply packed her by the shoulder and raised her to her feet so that she was now standing, supported by him. He lowered his face to hers and said in a furious, almost deranged whisper. "You know nothing of what I feel. You have no idea what you do to me. The constant agony that I have lived in, since you came into my life. How can you be so oblivious, so naive? How can you have the gall to suggest that you know how I feel? That I do not love you? Believe me, I wish it were so. I wish I did not adore you, that I coveted nothing else but you. How I wish that I was indifferent to you, especially after you betrayed me. You lied to me. Everyday that I grew to love you more and more, you were mocking me. Everytime I thought you were my friend, you were betraying me with Hood. How could you cheat me so?" he shook her by the shoulders and at his words coated with despair at her betrayal, the guilt and longing within her rose and she let out a heart-breaking sob. He stopped shaking her and let go of her shoulders, distancing himself from her. Without his support, she fell to her knees and in a last, desperate attempt to keep him, she asked in a trembling voice: "Can you blame me for following my heart?" The only answer she got for a few long, excrutiating seconds was a despondent exhale. She looked at him beseechingly, praying for him to understand and at feeling her gaze he turned around to her and said resentfully: "Can you blame me for following mine?" She furrowed her brows and watched as he came closer to her until he was standing above her. She had to crane her neck, for she did not wish to cease eye-contact with him and he lowered himself so he was speaking closer to her level. He once more whispered, like he did not wish to say these things aloud: "Since you have come into my life, I have followed my feelings. I have followed my heart, that has always lead me to you, putting me always at your disposal, always at your mercy. I blame myself, for my feelings cruelly betrayed me." He looked to the side, as if unable to gaze into her eyes and she no longer saw anger in his grey-blue orbs, but pain and she longed to reach out and smooth the wrinkles in his brow that always formed when he was troubled.

He looked at her and stated, even if his face betrayed his agony at the words he uttered: "You came to me. That night it was not a dream, was it?" she did not need to answer, because she knew he knew the answer. She simply kept looking at him and she saw him ball his hands into fists and anger once more return to his eyes. She closed her eyes and listened as he said through gritted teeth: "My heart has always wanted you. But I was cruelly deluded, for how could I ever have you, if you were already Hood's?" Her eyes snapped open at that and she looked at him incredulously at his false assumption. He studied her for a short moment and she longed to deny his assumptions, to tell him she was his, but her words failed her. His eyes darkened and he stood up to leave. Desperation packed her, because him leaving now had such a finality, such closure, that she could not endure. She whispered brokenly: "Guy." He whirled around and with hatred stroming in his eyes like a tempest he said: "Do not talk to me." He continued to the door and opened it, but before he left he said once more without turning around: "You are nothing to me." He then closed the door with a resounding thud, that echoed the breaking of her heart. She simply looked incredulously at the closed wooden door and felt numb. But then through the numbness, franticness arouse and she scrambled to her feet and ran to the door. She started maniacally pulling at the door knob in an attempt to open it and kept her ears at the door, listening to his footsteps as he descended the stairs and left her. His increasing distance caused the tears that had gathered in her eyes to overflow and she kept desperatelly pulling at the iron knob, ignoring the damage she was inflicting on her hands. But the door would not budge. She became increasingly erratic and when she could no longer hear his familiar footsteps, a sob tore through her. She let go of the knob and turned so that she was now leaning on the wooden door. She felt herself trembling and her legs gave out beneath her, no longer able to hold her weight. She slid down the door until she was sat on the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her head in her hands and cried over him. Though no one was in the room and she knew that she would never get an answer, she bitterly asked: "Why out of all the people in this world, does he have to be the one that I love?"


	39. Surrender

Chapter 39

_"I have been blind, unwilling to see the true love you're giving. I have ignored every blessing. I'm on my knees confessing. That I feel myself surrender each time I see your face. You are the air that I breath. You're the ground beneath my feet. When did I stop believing?" My Confession- Josh Groban_

He was surrounded by darkness. The corridor that he was moving through as if in sleep was completely bathed in shadow, with only slivers of silvery moonlight aiming to disperse the unending darkness. He moved through the corridor with these brief light shards, which were let in through the window irritating his eyes that had gotten used to the pitch black surroundings. Yet he took no notice of this. He moved as if he was in a trance. As if his rationality had forsaken him and he was being summoned by an invisible force, that he could not deny, not resist. Once more he was powerless to stop his body seeking out hers. He was powerless to prevent going to her, because his heart, his treacherous heart called out for her. He stood before the door that lead to her room. That door that he had shut a few hours with such a resounding, ominous thud. That he had shut, despite his misgivings, in hopes that he could leave her behind. He had distanced himself from this very door, eventhough everything within him was opposing his steps, everything within him was screaming at him to return to her and hold her in his arms. To love her just the way he had a few nights ago. It had been real. She had silently confirmed that the night he would never forget had been real. While this realization had brought him joy, he had seen her misgivings, her unhappiness. Sha had asked him if he could blame her follwing her heart. Her heart that had led her to Hood and he knew he should have despised her, condemned her. But he understood now how helpless one can be when it came to one's heart. You can't chose the path your heart will take. You are powerless to yourself. He stood before her door and looked at the wood, that was tinged blueish black, by the darkness that surrounded him. He knew he should not be here, he knew he should be distancing himself from her, growing cold and indifferent toward her, because tomorrow, in mere hours she would die. And he would have to stand beside Vasey seeing her being executed, seeing her slowly be strangled to death, watch how the life would leave her eyes, how that glint he had always adored would fade forever.

His hand moved as if it hand a mind of its own to the iron knob and turned it. The wooden door opened with a loud creaking and he stepped into the chambers before closing the door behind him, quietly. He now stood in her chambers, which were bathed in the light of the moon and seemed warmer than the rest of the castle. He let his eyes scan the room, slowly almost reluctantly leaving the bed for last, as he knew he would find her form on there. When his eyes finally did reach the bed and sought out her form beneath the covering, he saw that she was awake and was looking at him with an unreadable and impassive look on her face. She did not seem suprised at his appearance, like she had been expecting it, perhaps even willing it. She looked at him, her cornflower blue eyes not betraying her feelings. He returned the scrutiny and studied how the light of the moon illuminated her features, he studied with vehement desperation, trying to burn all her features into his memory, because in a few hours he would no longer see her alive. She would leave this world, she would leave him in this unbearable place, in this dark abyss alone. She would leave him, go somewhere he could not follow, she would leave him and he would never be able to find her. His breathing quickened and he once more cursed his distress for her fate. She had betrayed him, she loved Hood, she despised him. He still wanted her, still longed for her just as deeply as a new-born longed for its mother. He still wanted her, he still needed her and he knew that even after she had died, she would still have a hold on his heart that she would never relinquish.

He stood paralyzed watching her. She looked at him still impassively, though he could see no resent in her eyes. She studied him quietly, thoroughly from his toes up to his face. When she reached his eyes, he saw her lips part slightly and whatever she saw in his gaze caused her eyes to soften and the tender look, that had caused him to fall in love with her, returned and she shifted. She turned to him and stretched her arms out, beckoning him to her, telling him that she knew what he needed at this moment and that she needed it just the same. Her invitation animated his still body and he slowly moved toward her. He almost stealthily moved toward her, as if in fear that he would startle her and would prompt her to make him leave. She watched, with anticipation shining in her sky blue gaze, as he moved closer and settled himself on her side. He did not reach out for her, but simply studied how her blue eyes seemed to shine almost ethereally in her blue pupils, as they reflected the rays of the moon. How the moonlight gave her fiery-red hair a tinge of silver, how her ivory skin seemed to glow blueish-grey. She sat up slightly and craned her arms around his neck. She looked at him, her emotions so pure and raw that it caused Guy to gulp. She laid back down, pulling him with her and he shifted so that he was now lying beside her, to accomodate the new position. He moved so that he was hovering on top of her and he looked down at her and saw longing and desire burn in her gaze. She buried her fingers in his hair and gently pushed his head down to her, before capturing his lips with hers. From this moment on, Guy knew what it was like to melt.

* * *

He was moving on top of her in ecstatic delirium. His eyes, shining with adoration, watched the red-haired sprite beneath him, as she turned her head to the sides, obviously overwhelmed with desire. Guy himself felt that his passion, his ecstasy was threatening to bury him and the soft mewls that she gave beneath him, in response to feeling him within her, coupled with her creamy thighs wrapped around his waist and her meeting his thrusts in sync was threatening to drive him insane. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, as he touched a place within her just below her navel and he could feel his legacy pouch caressing her skin. Panting, he put his hands on either side of her face and redirected her gaze to him. She opened her eyes, and her pupils were dilated with desire. He ceased his movements, temporarily, and simply relished the feeling of being within her warmth, of her encompassing him. She felt just as amazing as she had last time and this had confirmed that, that night had been reality. She moved her hips slightly beneath him, trying to become more comfortable and he bowed his head and let out a groan at the sensation. He could feel her expectant gaze on him and he once more raised his eyes. Seeing her look at him affectionately, caused warmth to spread through his chest and with his right hand he caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch and sighed and at seeing this he cocked his head to the side and looked at her with tenderness, before lowering his head to give her a chaste kiss. He felt her put her soft hands upon his scruffy cheek to deepen the kiss and felt her lips twitch into a smile at the sensation. When their lips parted, she turned her head to the side and whispered into his ear: "I love you, Guy."

He stared at her incredulously, searching her face for any signs of dishonesty, but she simply looked upon him, smiling beatifically. For a cruelly blissful moment he allowed himself to believe her words. His heart start to pound in his chest and warmth, as well as desperation flooded him. To rid himself of this flood of emotions, he started to pound into her. He was thrusting into her erratically, desperately, almost violently and for a second he feared that he was hurting her with his vehemence. But she kept moaning wantonly beneath him, reveling in the new pace of their lovemaking. He had forgotten for a brief moment the fate that would befall her in a few hours, the destiny that came closer every second. He had forgotten that she was going to die in the morning. This worry had left the room, when they had been making love. He had forgotten that in a few hours she would cease to be and that he was powerless to stop it. She would leave him in the next morning, leave him in this hellish place, that only she had made bearable. She would leave him after having shown him, how terrible and unendurable his life had been before her. He embraced her closely to his chest, in a desperate attempt to not let her go, to keep her. He started shaking as he thought that this would be the last time, they would be like this. This was last time he would feel her soft skin beneath his hands, the last time he would feel her sweet scent of heathers and honey, this would be the last time he would feel her soft lips kiss his skin. He was holding onto her so strongly, that he feared he was strangulating her, and he buried his face into her red curls. He drove himself into her again and again with desperation. Her moans were growing louder and then she stilled and he felt her tremble, as her orgasm washed over her. He followed soon after spilling his seed into her womb.

* * *

She combed her fingers through his dark hairs and smiled beatifically. His arms encircled her waist and his head was laid upon her chest as he listened to her galloping heartbeat. Their skin was stuck together by a thin sheet of perspiration and he was still inside her. She kissed the top of his head tenderly and looked at him. She was sure that he could feel her gaze, but he did not meet it. He chose to lie with his ear close to her heart listening to her slowing heartbeat and embracing her waist tightly. Then she could feel his form shaking. She furrowed her brow in concern and looked at him, trying to gauge what had caused his reaction. Did he regret coming to her? Making love to her? She hoped not. She passed a soothing hand on his cheek and the contact caused him to look up and his eyes held an unreadable emotion, he was still panting, out of breath. She smiled at him sadly and pulled him up so that she could capture his lips in a kiss. She kissed him tenderly, passionately and the caressing of their lips once more caused them to become aroused. They broke apart, gasping for breath and she heard him mutter: "Witch." She smiled slightly at him, but her smile dropped as she saw his tortured expression. She closed her eyes, as the reason for his distress dawned on her. She had forgotten. She had forgotten, that she would die in a matter of hours. He had made her forget. She knew he could not save her. She never expected him to, especially after her duplicity. Still her heart broke, because this had been the last time they would be together like this. She felt him lean his forehead against hers. She heard his despondent sigh and how his hand caressed her arm, in an attempt to soothe the tremors that had grabbed her. He whispered to her: "I can't save you." With dread coursing through her, she whispered: "I know." She did, she knew that this night had changed nothing. She knew that he could not save her even if he wanted to. She knew that he could never choose her, just as she could never choose him. She knew. "I can't let you go." She nodded and with a cracking voice she repeated: "I know." "I should have let you go long ago. I should never have held onto you so strongly. But I couldn't let you go. It would have killed me. It still kills me." She nodded and sobbed: "I know" She felt him standing up and immediately she felt his loss, as goosebumps rose up on her skin. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see her tears, that she felt approaching. She heard him get dressed and finally move toward the door. He opened it, but then after a moment's hesitation he said: "Forgive me." With that he exited the room and closed the door. She did not break out in sobs, tears did not flow down her face. She simply kept staring out of the window, observing as the moon's journey across the star-lit sky came to an end, and dreading the sun's arrival.

* * *

He cut through the cold wind of night like an arrow. He could not recall a time he had ridden so quickly. He was a top of Lark and he felt as if he was flying. The horse was no doubt being spurned on by a sixth animalistic sense. He felt that his mistress was in peril and that any second wasted could mean the difference between life or death. Sherwood Forest was reticent at night, excepting the melody of the nocturnal creatures, however tonight Sherwood Forest was filled by a crescendo melody of horse hooves. This discord was frantic and held a desperation that simply spurned Robin's franticness and caused him to accelerate Lark even more. Beside him rode his men, who were equally disquiet and agitated.

Allan had told the truth. Eloise had been captured by Guy of Gisborne and was going to be executed in a matter of hours, perhaps even minutes, because as Robin spied the looming castle in the distance, which was still too distanced, he could see the darkness of night dissipating and the illumination of the inky black sky announcing the arrival of dawn. Vasey probably expected Robin and his men to come to her rescue, perhaps he had even laid a trap out for him, but he could not bring himself to care. All that mattered now was preventing Eloise from hanging. He needed her to fight alongside him against Vasey and for King Richard. He would not forsake her, not when she would have foolhardily risked her life for any of the outlaws. To leave her had not been an option for any of the outlaws. Even Will, who was more reserved toward her, had been adamant for a rescue party.

So they rode through Sherwood Forest in a race with time.


	40. Torment Covers Me

Chapter 40

_"She seemed dressed in all of me. Stretched across my shame, all the torment and the pain leaked through and covered me." Vermillion pt. 2- Slipknot_

It was the beginning of August. It was still summer season, which was characterized by its warm temperature and unrelenting sunshine. Yet today the sun did not shine, and a cold breeze blew. The thick, dark-grey clouds acted as a barrier to the sun's rays. The air around them seemed grey and the atmosphere was thick with melancholy and resentment. It was as if the weather aimed to reflect the mood of all that had gathered this morning in the Nottingham courtyard to watch the execution of Eloise of Knighton, the niece of the late Sir Edward of Knighton. The noose swung ominiously, almost tauntingly in the wind and its constant pendulum-like motions drew the attention to the gallows and reminded the whole congregation what was to happen here. The citizens of Knighton stood in the mass and watched the rope with resentment and accusation, for it would take from them a kind mistress. An altruistic kind spirit would today leave this world and the citizens of Knighton resented the gallows for they seemed to only take their loved ones, while the true scoundrels in the world seem to be exempt from its strangulating embrace. They called her a traitor to England and to the crown and all were beseeched to hate her. But then again they were also beseeched to despise Robin Hood and his outlaws, for he had been branded England's enemy, eventhough all present would adamantly state that he had only ever acted for good. He had their loyalty, as had Eloise of Knighton. She was to hang for her consortment with the outlaws and for her treachery as the Shadow. She was to hang, because she had feed and provided for those less fortunate than her. When they had heard the announcement, the villagers had questioned the injustice of fate, that they would take her and not Sheriff Vasey or Guy of Gisborne, who were single-handedly responsible for their squalor. They watched the heavy wooden doors of Nottingham Castle, in dread, awaiting the nobleman's daughter to step through the doors and to be lead to her demise. All awaited and they were bathed in dread and sorrow.

A young five-year old girl stood beside her mother and held her calloused, weathered hand. Mary stood with her mother at the edge of the crowd and watched with a wide and curious gaze as those around her stood glumly and she looked up to see her mother shaking her head sorrowfully. She did not understand why everyone around her looked so sad. Life was not easy and Mary, even at the tender age of five, knew that, but it was still the summer season and over the past few month she had grown used to awakening to sunshine and warmth and playing with the other children at Knighton. She had gotten used to her day being filled with cheer and carelesness, so the glum mood her mother had awakened her in the morning with to take her to Nottingham, had disconcerted her. But she had complied to her mother's wishes without questioning her, after she had seen the despondent gaze in her eyes. Her mother's warm hazel eyes had usually been filled with tenderness and kindness, but today her gaze was hard and accusing. Mary was slightly fearful of her mother, as she dreaded to have done something which would cause her mother discontentment. But when she had arrived in the courtyard of the looming castle and she had seen others wearing similar expressions as her mother, she had concluded that she was not the source of her mother's indignation. She saw how all looked at the wooden doors with contempt and the disgust seemed to radiate from all and blanket the courtyard with a thick, impenetrable air. She squeezed her mother's hand lightly to shift the woman's attention to her and as her mother's hazel eyes rested themselves on her form, she asked in a thin voice: "Mam, why is everyone so sad?" Her mother's gaze softened, but her mouth formed a thin line, which reminded Mary of the times she had gotten scolded. She was awaiting the tirade, but received a whispered explanation instead: "Today a good person will die, that is why everyone is so unhappy sweetheart." She furrowed her brows and looked up at her mother with a questioning gaze. Before she could ask why the good person had to die today, she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and the Sheriff and Guy of Gisborne stepping out. Immediately, little Mary tried to hide behind her mother's patched, brown skirt, aware that she was visible to the two men, who she had been taught to fear all her life. Her mother had told her of the depravity and cruelty of the Sheriff and Lord Gisborne. She had beseeched her child to stay away from them, but taught her to respect them nonetheless, if she valued her life. Mary had glimpsed them before, when they had passed through Knighton, or when she had been in Nottingham with her mother, but she had never been so close that she was ale to see their expressions properly. Both stood straight with an air of authority and hostility surrounding them. They were both clad in black, which only served to intensify the sombre aura they exuded. But that is also where the similarities between the two men ended. The Sheriff was sporting a cheerful, self-satisifed smile, which would have been pleasant did he not have a sadistic, malevolent glint in his eyes. Sir Guy of Gisborne had his arms crossed out in front of his chest and he was looking, seemingly at nothing, with a hard look in his eyes. But Mary could also see something else in the frightening man's gaze, something like sadness and it disconcerted her, because this made him seem human and her mother had told her that Guy of Gisborne was anything but human.

The wooden door opened once more and a young woman stepped out with guards at her side. Mary watched in fascination as the woman walked down the stairs and with a proud look on her face and walked toward the gallows. The woman was dressed in a burlap sack, that had been tied around her waist with a rope that also seemed to hold her hands bound. The woman was still beautiful in Mary's opinion. She seemed well-nourished and her features were fair, and her hair was long, glossy and fiery-red. But it was the look of utter and complete fearlessness and pride that shocked her, because surely the woman knew that she was walking toward her death. Yet how could she remain so calm? Had no one told her? She looked at the Sheriff and Sir Gisborne to confirm whether they had informed the woman. She looked at the Sheriff and saw that his smile had brightened and she was expecting that he would start to rub his hands together in satisfaction. Mary could see that Sir Guy's jaw had clenched and his hands had balled into fists. Like he was angry, but the sadness in his eyes only seemed more pronounced, as he watched the red-haired woman step onto the podium and station herself, while she looked proudly over the crowd with her head held high.

"People of Nottinghamshire, let today be an example to all of you. Let today remind you that no one is exempt from the law. Not even nobility. Traitors and scoundrels shall receive the same treatment, no matter their station." the Sheriff's nasal voice broke through the silence that had descended in the courtyard and Mary watched him, her lips slightly parted in disbelief. Her mother had told her that the woman was good and that everyone would resent her loss. Yet the words of the Sheriff contradicted that statement. Mary was reminded of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws, they were good people, who cared for them, her mother had assured her of this notion. Perhaps the lady on the podium was the same. Perhaps she worked for Robin Hood.

She saw how the executioner stepped behind the woman with a pair of scissors. He grabbed the woman's thick red hair and started to cut it off. Mary started forward, wanting to stop the man from taking the woman's beautiful hair, but she was held in place by her mother's firm grasp on her hand. She looked up intent on telling her mother that they had to do something to help the woman, but then she saw her mother gazing with pity and guilt at the lady and she knew that they were powerless to prevent the woman's fate. Mary tried to avert her gaze from the woman's humiliation, but it seemed that her eyes were glued to the display. She longed to see how the woman would react. She heard a dark chuckle beside her and as she turned her gaze to find the source of the noise, she saw the Sheriff's face alight at the amusement. Mary felt indignation for the man's cruelty and insensitivity rise. Could he not see the pain and humiliation the girl was going through? Her anger was reflected on Lord Gisborne's face, as he had averted his eyes from the spectacle at the gallows and seemed to fume at the Sheriff's amusement. The display seemed to pain him and he was looking at the woman with pain and sorrow in his eyes. As well as... the emotion that her father would look upon her mother with. Mary wanted to ask him why he wasn't doing anything to save the woman. Why he was not stopping the humiliation she was going through, but she remembered that her mother had told her that monsters don't care for anything, except monstrous things, so she averted her gaze and looked at the gallows.

The executioner had finished cutting off the woman's beatiful hair and Mary looked sorrowfully at the mass of red curls, that had gathered on the wooden floor of the podium. The woman's hair now ended at her chin, exposing her long, slender neck but it looked scruffy, no doubt due to the lack of skill of the executioner. Mary could see how the woman's cornflower blue eyes shone with unshed tears and how she had clenched her jaw tightly to prevent them from flowing. Mary wanted to console her, she wanted to tell her that it was acceptable to cry and that no one here would think any less of her for it. She wanted to tell her, that she was still the most beautiful woman Mary had ever seen, even if her hair was shorter. Mary watched helplessly as the woman was lifted upon a stool and the noose was put around her neck. She did not want the woman to die. She was a good person, she could see that in the woman's eyes.

The executioner was about to pull the hood over her head and Mary was about to exhale at the kindness, because it would give the woman a chance to cry and she would no longer have to keep up the mask that she had put on in front of the entire congregation, that she knew was exhausting the woman to keep up. The woman looked equally relieved as she saw the executioner arriving with the dark sack, and Mary saw that this woman was someone who easily displayed their emotion, so to have that passive mask must have been unbearable. As the executioner was pulling it over her head, the tense silence was cut by the Sheriff's voice: "No hood, I think. I long to see that pretty face contort, as she dies." Mary's eyes widened and a murmur of indignated disagreement rose within the crowd. She heard Sir Guy's deep voice saying to the Sheriff: "Enough!" The dark-haired man was looking at the Sheriff like he wished to drive his sword through him. His eyes were wild with anger and grief. Mary couldn't help but think that Lord Gisborne's pain was almost palpable. So why didn't he help her? He loomed over the Sheriff threateningly, yet he did nothing to help the woman. Despite Lord Gisborne's palpable anger, the Sheriff chuckled and said: "No, it's not nearly enough. NO HOOD!", he declared to the mass. Her mother's grip on her hand tightened and she hissed: "He will burn in hell for this."

Mary once more gazed upon the woman, who had her head bowed and her eyes closed and awaited her destiny. She seemed to be trembling, the slight shaking of her body could be seen from here. She was scared, but pride and fierceness still eminated through her. "Any last words, my dear?" the Sheriff's mocking voice echoed through the courtyard. Mary saw the corner of the woman's lips twitch up, until her lips twisted into a small, victorious smile. She raised her head high and with a self-assured glint of determination in her eyes, she looked at the Sheriff and declared in a loud voice, her words coated with undiluted pride: "My name is Eloise of Knighton. I fight for Robin Hood and King Richard. Long live King Richard Lionheart! Long live Robin Hood, prince of thieves!" Her salutations she had exclaimed loudly and happily, and at the woman's joy and enthusiasm, Mary's lips twisted into a small smile. She looked at the Sheriff and Sir Gisborne to see their reaction. The tall, brooding man had lowered his gaze to the ground sorrowfully, while the Sheriff looked non-plussed. He pursed his lips and cocked his head slightly and said: "Oh well." He made the sign for the executioner to kick the stool from under Eloise's feet. Mary shut her eyes tightly, not wishing to see what comes next. She heard the sound of a stool falling over and of a rope being stretched.

However, and she cracked open one eye, then she heard a gasp of surprise rise from the crowd, as well as the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air. She opened her eyes to see Eloise falling to the ground, no longer dangling from the noose and hastily standing up to join Robin Hood and his band of outlaws that had come to her rescue. She jumped down the platform and ran into Robin's arms, embracing him tightly. The sound of cheering filled the courtyard, as everyone was content at Eloise's rescue. What happened next was a blur of activity to Mary. The guards of Nottingham went in to attack the outlaws and capture them, but Robin Hood and his outlaws, as well as Eloise had been able to fight them off with their weapons. She had been freed of her bounds and she was throwing daggers at any guard, who dared to approach her. Mary's eyes widened with admiration at the woman's fierceness.

They had been able to fight off the guards and Robin Hood and the outlaws seemed about to retreat. They were running toward the castle gates, but then Eloise turned around and looked at the Sheriff with victory and hatred storming in her eyes like a tempest. Her lips twisted into a cruel smirk and she threw her last dagger in the direction of the Sheriff. The man's eyes widened at th approaching weapon, but he was at a safe enough distance that he could duck out of the weapons's way. The dagger stuck to the wooden door of Nottingham Castle and Sheriff Vasey was staring at her with disbelief and indignation colouring his eyes. Sir Gisborne was looking at her impassively, but Mary knew that he was relieved at the rescue, she could feel it. Eloise looked at Sheriff Vasey and Guy of Gisborne with a mocking expression and opened her mouth to let out a taunting: "Ha Ha!" before she ran off with an amused Robin Hood following her. The Sheriff was seething at Eloise's escape and her ridicule of him. "Go after her!" he bellowed at Sir Gisborne packing him by the collar. His henchman simply looked at him, neutrally and said with a hint of satisfaction: "They are too far off my lord. I fear your plans have failed." Repulsed, the Sheriff let go of Sir Gisborne's collar and proceeded to enter the castle in rage. Sir Gisborne did not follow, but looked in the direction Eloise had escaped for a few long seconds.

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**Phew that was a close call. Please read and review and tell me what you thought of the developments. Again I apologize for the intrigue and the angst, but I did warn you in the prologue that the story would be tragic. **


	41. Ocean to get around

Chapter 41

**Hi everyone, a new update for y'all. I really appreciate all the views I have been getting on this Story, it would be awesome if more of you would Review though. Seriously just drop me a line and tell me how I'm doing. Don't be shy. So this chapter will have a huge development. In an earlier Review one of my reviewers alluded to this and I know that I was frantically searching for any hints that I may have dropped. I guess she just read my mind. Anyways, this chapter is kinda big- plot-wise and we are getting closer and closer to the end. Prepare yourselves for some turbulent times ahead. **

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_"'Cause you're a hard soul to save. With an ocean in the way, but I'll get around it. I'll get around it." Over the Love- Florence+ The Machine_

- One month Later-

"We will do a night raid in Nottingham Castle in two days." Robin announced cheerfully. He proceeded to tell his outlaws of his plan, how he had discovered his way through the mechanisms of the strongroom and how they would rob Vasey of his last coin, so that he could not compensate the black Knights, thus resulting in a thrift to Operation 'Shah Mat'. Eloise furrowed her brows and combed her fingers through her short, chin-length hair in agitation. She allowed Robin to explain how he would infiltrate the strong room and how he would need the help of his men to hold open the door, to retrieve the treasure and then to escape the castle after the alarm had been raised. Eloise listened intently as Robin explained his plot with enthusiasm, all the while a cold feeling of dread was coursing through her veins like icy water. Eloise did not believe in premonition, but as Robin explained his plans to once more ridicule Vasey, she could not help but to believe that this was what the feeling within her was. She looked around at the faces of her friends and fellow outlaws. Much was sporting a worried and exasperated expression, no doubt annoyed at his master's latest idea to endanger himself and the others. But Much was always wary of ambushes and his loyalty to Robin was the only reason he remained in the camp. What suprised Eloise was that Djaq, Will and even John were looking similarly wary and sceptic as she felt.

After Robin had finished explaining his plan, she could not help herself and spoke out: "Robin do you truly think this is necessary? You have seen how Vasey has increased his security after my rescue and escape. It is quite reckless, my friend, and not entirely necessary." Robin's head snapped to her and he was looking at her incredulously and with anger colouring his green eyes. Eloise meet his gaze and stood her ground. She knew that Robin disliked having his authority undermined by anyone and most of the time Eloise was happy to follow his orders, since she respected his judgement. But she could not ignore the feeling of dread that had coursed through her as he revealed his plans. After her rescue Vasey had increased security and had stationed his guards all over Nottingham in hopes of capturing the outlaws. It would be foolhardy, almost suicidal to try and raid the fortress. So she was adamant to persuade Robin to give up his plans. But Robin was obstinate and he stated: "Yes, Eloise it is necessary. We can steal Vasey's funds for Operation 'Shah Mat'. It would stop him." She shook her head and stated in a measured tone, seeing that Robin was starting to become agitated: "No Robin. It won't stop him. It would be an incovenience to him, but he will simply raise the taxes to replenish what you stole. This won't be able to stop 'Shah Mat'." At her continued defiance Robin's eyes began to glint. Since her rescue, her and Robin had not been as close as they used to be. They were still friends and Robin could still see that she was devoted to him and she knew that he still cared for her, but he had distanced himself from her and was much more volatile around her. The newly-created distance between her and the man, who she thought was her dearest friend pained her, but she understood that he needed time to come to terms with her affections for his rival. She simply hoped they could return to their old friendship, which she valued so much, which had been the greatest source of comfort to her. Robin's tone was sharp as a knife cutting through her, as he answered her: "Eloise, we will do this. Don't worry, we won't hurt your lover, if he stays out of our way." Her face crumpled at the mention of Guy and she averted her gaze in sadness and in anger. Robin knew that him mentioning Guy to her would wound her. He had cursed Gisborne, asking how he could have watched Eloise almost hang, and at her defence of Guy saying that he could not have done anything, he had called her stupid and naive. He had told her that his inactivity during her execution had simply shown that he did not care for her and Robin had grown angry with her, at her unwillingness to condemn Guy. Eloise raised her gaze to Robin and looked at him hurt and scornfully, she saw Robin's face fall slightly at her expression. But he steeled himself and returned her cold glance. Impassively he asked her: "Can I count with your cooperation or not?" She looked at him for a long time, her expression not revealing anything and though everything within her was opposing her decision, she nodded her acquiescence.

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Djaq was sitting on a log in front of the fireplace and was rubbing the sleep off her eyes. It was early morning and the air around them was still slightly moist with dew. The only people awake were Much and Eloise, the latter who was sitting across from Djaq with a despondent and distanced look on her face. Last night she had left after she had given Robin her acquiescence to the plan. Djaq shook her head at their leader's behaviour. It was clear that he still cared for Eloise, more than as a friend, but he was treating her badly due to her affections for Gisborne. Djaq could not understand why someone as kind as Eloise would care for Guy of Gisborne, even when Eloise had explained that there was a different side to the tall, brooding man that only she saw. She still could not understand how Eloise could miss him dearly so dearly. She had tried not to be judgemental, she had tried to be understanding of her friend's feelings, and she hoped Robin could have made the same effort. Djaq knew that Eloise's friendship with Robin was deeper than their own and she knew that Eloise needed Robin to console her, especially now when the man she loved had not done anything to rescue her from the gallows. Had not done anything, when she had been humiliated by her hair being cut off. She needed Robin to be supportive, she did not need Robin to treat her unkindly and rub the occurings during the morning of the execution in her face.

Djaq saw Robin, who had just awoken judging by his disheveled appearance, approaching Eloise cautiously and laying a friendly, placating hand on her shoulder. Eloise jumped slightly at the contact, being drawn out of her meditations and the red-haired girl looked at the slightly ashamed leader of the outlaws. Djaq saw Eloise staring up at Robin with a hard, unforgiving expression in her impossibly blue eyes, but then seeing Robin's apologetic expression, she exhaled and smiled bitterly shaking her head. She moved over on the log she was sitting and made space for the leader of the outlaws, who looked relieved at Eloise's inexistent resentment. He started talking softly to her and she responded slightly more annoyed and admonished him and his behaviour over the past few weeks. Eloise grew agitated during her tirade and fiercely admonished him, yet Robin still looked slightly amused at the red-haired girl's tigerish spirit. They were whispering, so Djaq could not overhear their conversation, it did not matter to her that she could not hear their words. She was simply glad for her friend, as she knew that Robin would be the only one, who could console Eloise at the moment. She saw Robin say something to Eloise with a cocky smirk playing on his lips, which Eloise responded to with a hard gaze, but she bowed her head in an attempt to conceal her slightly amused smile. As Much proceeded to give each of them a bowl of porridge, Robin played with the tips of Eloise's hair and she swatted his hands away playfully. Much gave both of them their breakfast, and Robin immediately proceeded to eat his rations with enthusiasm. Eloise, however hesitated and Djaq thought that she looked slightly nauseated. Eloise raised the bowl, but as the smell of porridge hit her, Eloise turned away and vomited behind the log, wich ehe was sat upon.

Djaq jumped up and moved hastily toward the sick girl, who was bent over and was dry-heaving, as she had removed any content in her stomach. Robin was caressing her back, soothingly and caringly and looking at her worriedly. Djaq knelt down an put a steadying hand on the girl's arm. Dread filled Djaq as an assumption dawned on her. After Eloise had finished her spell, Djaq proceeded to help her get to her feet and they moved toward her healing station. Djaq gave Eloise a bowl, in case she had to vomit once more, before she proceeded to wipe the sweat of the pale girl's brow with a wet cloth. Eloise smiled at her friend and said with a raspy voice: "Don't worry Djaq, this is not the first time. I have been feeling nauseated every morning for almost a week. It's become routine." This attempt at humour did nothing to soothe Djaq and simply confirmed what she dreaded. She stopped her ministrations with the cloth and looked at her only female friend with a fearful, serious look in her eyes. At her expression Eloise sobered slightly and sat up straighter. Her smile fell and she looked at Djaq equally worried and said in a whisper: "What is it? You're worrying me." "When was your last monthly flow, my friend?" Eloise at first looked at her with confusion colouring her gaze, but then understanding dawned in her eyes and she grasped Djaq's arm strongly. "Djaq, what are you trying to say?" Djaq closed her eyes, as her suspicions were confirmed and she said in a solemn whisper while looking at her seriously: "I am saying that you are with child. Gisborne's child, if I am not mistaken." Eloise paled further if possible and then she proceeded to vomit in the bowl, while Djaq rubbed her arm soothingly with pity for the girl coursing through her veins.

"It's alright. We will work something out." Eloise looked up at Djaq with a disbelieving look on her face, her brows furrowed at the Saracen woman's consolement. She leaned her head back and her shoulders sagged, as she said: "I am pregnant Djaq. I am with child and living in Sherwood Forest, among the greatest rival of this child's father. It's not alright." Djaq closed her eyes at the confirmation of the child's parentage. She had been hoping that perhaps she had been wrong, that perhaps Robin could have been the father, because the two of them used to go off by themselves at night. She had hoped, but Eloise was adamant that the only man she had given herself to had been Guy of Gisborne. Djaq dreaded Robin finding out, the two of them had just made amends a few minutes ago. This news would most definetely wound Robin and would destroy any friendship that the two could have possibly had. She looked at Eloise and said beseechingly: "You do not have to carry this child to term. There are alternatives. I still have some Donq Quai with me. The herb shall stimulate your flow and will cause you to lose the babe." Eloise's head snapped to Djaq and she glared at her fiercely and indignated. Djaq recoiled slightly at the tigerishness of her glare and Eloise seeing Djaq's trepidation, softened her gaze and said in a whisper: "I know you mean well, Djaq. But I could never kill it. I could never kill my child. I could never kill _his_ child. I already love it too much." Eloise shifted her gaze and looked down at her belly and smiled tenderly. She put her hand on her still-flat stomach, caressing the human that was developing within. Tenderness rose within Djaq despite her misginvings and she put her right hand on Eloise's and when the girl shifted her blue gaze to her, she promised: "I shall help you. I won't tell Robin, but you have to do so soon. In a few months, it shall be impossible to conceal your secret." Eloise closed her eyes and nodded in agreement with her words. The two women did not say anything else and Djaq offered silent consolation to her friend.

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She was lying on the moist grass, the nocturnal melody of Sherwood Forest surrounding her. She opened her eyes and gazed at the starlit sky, wondering what it was like up there. She wondered whether after death, one became a star, that is what her mother had told her. She had told Eloise that after death, the person's soul left their carnal vessel and travelled up to heaven and became a star. That our soul would fly, defy the law's of nature and would proceed to illuminate heaven. Eloise found comfort in that thought, she found comfort thinking that one of those numerous light spots, contrasting with the inky blackness of the night sky could be her mother. That her mother was watching over her, and had been watching over her, her whole life and had spent this Intervall simultaneously illuminating heaven. Eloise smiled sadly and looked up at the sky, at a star that stood centrally and that seemed familiar to her, eventhough they all looked the same. But as she gazed at the star, she felt that she had observed this star before and she hoped that if her mother's theory had been correct, that this was Lady Anne of Chester. She looked up at the sky and longing for her mother filled her and she whispered: "Hello mommy. I am following your theory and I hope that this is you, or that wherever you are you can hear me." She should feel silly, that she had been talking to a star, but she could not bring herself to care, because at this moment she needed some form of motherly guidance and consolation. Her hand came to rest upon her stomach and at the contact, Eloise felt her heart soar and she smiled contentedly. She knew that she should not be so happy about her situation. She knew she should be worrying about Robin's reaction when she would reveal her secret to him. She knew she should be worrying how she would carry this child to term in the forest. But she could not, because to her the child that grew within her was a product of their love. Previously, she had been aware that she could have never have had him to herself, but now she had a piece of him that she would cherish, treasure forever. "I am carrying your grandson, mother. You have been watching me over the past few month. I know that you would be apprehensive toward him. You would fear that he would cause me pain. But I know that you would accept him, because I love him. I know I should not be so joyous, but I am carrying his child. God has separated us time and time again, has made it impossible for us to be together, but now I have a piece of him, that no one will take from me." She smiled up at the sky and closed her eyes, exhaling.

She laid upon the moist grass, caressing her stomach and breathing in the crisp scent of the moist foliage. She felt at peace, she felt happy and perhaps she shouldn't. Perhaps she should have felt indignated, unsatisfied to carry the child of the man, who had proclaimed to love her, but had done nothing to stop her execution. Rationally she knew that he could have done nothing and that both of them would have hung if he had interfered. But her heart was not rational and he had broken it, when he had left her the night before the execution. He had broken it when he had impassively watched her being humiliated and the noose being put around her neck. He had simply watched, as if she was simply another pesky outlaw that had to be dealt with. Dread also washed over her, as she thought about little Seth. He had abandoned his son, his own flesh and blood in the forest. Had left him to his fate, because the child was an incovenience. Surely he would gaze upon their offspring, their son the same way. Fierce protectiveness rose within her. She would not let him get near the child. She would not allow her son to be harmed. She was protected here in Sherwood, among friends, among... Robin. She shook her head sadly, no Robin would never endure the child. He would not accept the son of his greatest rival in the camp. She would have to leave Nottinghamshire. She would return to Chester. She would return to Matilda and she would carry her son to term there. She would inform Robin and then she would leave, because she would be no use in battle heavy with child. She would bear her son and would leave him in Matilda's care. She would return to Robin, if he still required her assistance and after King Richard had been reinstated in his rightful throne, Eloise would return for her son and live out her days in Chester with Matilda. She would care for her nurse and for her son and she would be content in a prosperous England. She would forget her time in Nottinghamshire. She would forget him.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a twig breaking beneath the boot of a man. Like a scared woodland creature, she turned around to the source of the discord and was met with the sight of him. He was standing a few metres behind her and he was gazing upon her with an equally astonished, wide-eyed expression. He looked the same, he had not changed, and his constancy only served to remind her that she had changed so much. Her hair was short, and she was carrying his child. She resented him for not changing, for reminding her that she was completely different now. She resented him, because he had not changed and neither had her feelings for him and she resented herself for being content to see him, for asking herself if he still found her desirable with the short hair, for the longing that had taken possesion of her heart at his sight. She tried to supress her feelings and she shook her head and said loud enough so that he could hear: "No. No more." With that she stood up and ran out of the clearing and into the dense growth of Sherwood Forest.

She wanted to get away from him, but her legs were not moving as quickly as they were able to. They were heavy and lethargic and she could not spurn them on, even if she could hear his approaching footsteps coming closer and closer. She tried to run, but it was as if something was weighing her down, her body was betraying her and expressing its need to remain stationary. But she still ran and ran through the thick growth of the forest, without aim, without a destination, only wishing to escape him, while still wishing for the opposite all the same. The chase came to a halt, when she felt his hand upon her shoulder and the contact caused her to stop. She cursed her body's reaction to his touch and refused to turn around, although every cell of her being longed to. Silence descended upon them and all Eloise could hear was his breathing behind her. It seemed as if the music of the night had ceased in favour of their meeting and everything was paying attention to their interaction. She was waiting for him to say something. He had after all ran after her like a maniac. However they simply stood silently, him behind her with his hand upon her shoulder, as if it was a constraint. She longed to shrug it off just as much as she longed for the contact that caused warmth to seep into her body. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he kept infuriantingly silent. She shook her head in aggravation, and spat lowly: "What are you doing here?" He did not respond for a long time, but then he said: "I came to the meadow, that we found during our first ride. What were you doing there?" She scoffed and for a moment she considered not answering him, but she had missed the sound of his voice and treacherously longed to hear it more: "Thinking. What did you want there?" "The same thing." he said lowly. She looked up and shook her head with more vehemence at his response. She let out a bitter bark of laughter and spun around to face him. She almost lost her resolve, as she gazed up into his grey-blue eyes, but then she steeled herself and gave him a cruel, resentful smirk and spat: "I thought perhaps the forest would offer me a sanctuary, but it seems I shall never be rid of you." He let go of her shoulder and recoiled, as if she had burnt him. He then looked at her with anger and hurt swirling in his grey-blue eyes, but she did not feel intimidated by his glare and she simply met his glare with one even more fierce: "It was a coincidence." he hissed with venom in his voice "I did not know you would be there." She furrowed her brows and averted her gaze, but he grabbed her chin and redirected her eyes to his and murmured: "Though I can not resent finding you." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her heart that had accelerated at his words. In an attempt to conserve her anger and scare him off, she said contemptously: "So you can bring me to the Sheriff again? So that you two can try to kill me once more?" At her words he once more grew indignant and he said: "You know I could never." She bit her lips and said: "You were willing to watch my execution one month ago. I do not know what you are capable of. I thought I knew you, but I truly don't." He packed her by the shoulders, as if he feared that she would disappear and he said: "I could not. I value you above all else. I love you." his voice rose at his words and she exclaimed loud and frustrated, looking up at the sky asking with a desperate tone: "Where? Where is this love? I can not see it. I can't feel it... I can hear it. I can hear some word. But I have no use for you and your cheap words." "Please, you said you loved me." he raised his voice as well. She looked at him cruelly and said: "Well, I don't. Not anymore. I stopped." He furrowed his brows and asked her: "When?" She looked down and in a whisper she replied: "Now. This very moment."

His grip on her shoulder tightened, but she simply kept looking at the forest floor, already covered with the first leaves of autumn. "Eloise, I need you. Help me. I want to become a better man. For you." She shook her head and spat venomously: "Too late." He gripped her chin and raised her head up almost violently to meet his gaze and she almost crumbled, as she saw the desperation and the pain in his grey-blue orbs. She still steeled herself, because she knew that she needed to get away from him. She needed leave, to go to Chester, because she would not able to survive this much longer, and she needed to for her child, for their child. Motherly love spurning her she spat hatefully: "You're too late. It's too fucking little, too fucking late." she saw him flinch slight at the profanities she spat in such a hateful tone. She shrugged his hands off and turned to leave, but her body felt like it would collapse if she moved. She felt weak and exhausted, so she sat herself upon the nearby treelog and buried her face into her hands and exhaled shakily. She closed her eyes and willed the tears that had sprung to her eyes down. She could not cry, because he would pry on her weakness and then she would never leave. She heard his hesitant footsteps coming closer, and she passed an exasperated, desperate hand over her face at his insistence. She felt him kneel down to her level and felt him lay down his head upon her lap. She did not have the power to push him away, nor the heart, so she allowed him. She nervously combed her fingers through her hair and then she heard him brokenly beseech her: "Save me, please." And at his tone, she felt something break within her and the tears that she had been fighting welled in her eyes and spilt down her cheeks. She shook her head and stated brokenly: "I can't. I can't save you." He looked up at her and she met his gaze, allowing him to see her tears and he pleaded once more: "Please. Save me. Tell me you love me." She wanted to move away, and she made to stand up as she vehemently shook her head, but he held her down and he said: "Please... Lie to me." "Oh God." she whispered and she felt her resolve leaving her completely. She had once more surrendered to him and she did not know whether she relished the feeling, or whether she cursed it. She laid her hands upon his cheek and directed his gaze up at her and she said: "I love you. I do, but I can't save you." But this did not seem to matter to him, because he raised his head to capture her lips in a searing kiss before gently laying her down on the soft forest floor.


	42. Peace and Release

Chapter 42

**So this is a massive update, because I have made the decision to post the remaining chapters of 'Catching Heaven'. I have my reasons, firstly because I was really excited to get all of the chapters out and I really want you guys to know how the Story will end. Secondly, because I really want to finalize this Story and move onto my new fanfic and really Focus my Attention on that Piece. So I hope you guys Read, Review and enjoy. This is an incredibly fluffy chapter and I actually really enjoyed writing it, because it is so different from the Default mood of this Story.**

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_"My love, you have found peace. You were searching for release. you will sleep for good. You will wait for me my love. My love, look what you can do. I am mending, I'll be with you." My love-Sia_

They lay intertwined on the forest floor. Their chest were rising and filling as they breathed deeply to calm their frantic hearts. He was warmed by her soft, warm skin on his and she had laid her palm of his chest above his heart, as if she was wanted to feel it beat in her hands. His arm encircled her waist and he had pulled her closely to him. They both lay on their sides, face-to-face and they were panting slightly still trying to recover from their orgasm. She had slung her leg over his and her dainty foot was rubbing over his calf, causing desire to once more spark within him. She sighed contently and leaned her forehead against his. He tenderly kissed her lips and she moved her hands to his hair and tenderly brushed through it. The stars above them shone down on them and illuminated their naked bodies in a silvery-grey light. "Tell me about your life. Tell me about your childhood." She prompted and he cursed that their moment had been broken. He attempted to move away, but her gentle grip did not relent and she looked at him with her cornflower blue eyes and beseeched him: "Please." He sighed, because he knew that he could never negate her anything if she asked in this manner, but he feared that he would destroy what they had. That she would be repulsed by his past, that had caused him to become the monster that he was today. His past that still haunted him, every second of every day and prevented him to have a peaceful existence. Perhaps if he told her, if he shared his burden it would not weigh him down so greatly. Perhaps, telling her would ease his demons.

He told her. He told her of how his father had left him, his family and his estate to fight in the Holy Lands, to be a crusader. He told her how he had never given up on his father's memory. How he had cherished his father, been proud of him every day of his absence. He told her how he had longed for his father to return, how he had longed for his family to be once more complete. He told her how one night he had discovered his mother's betrayal of his father with Hood's father. He told her how the beatific image that he had of his mother had come crashing down upon him, due to his discovery. He told her how one day the message had arrived that his father had been lost in the Holy Lands. He told her of the feast that happened soon after and he told her of the fire wheel and how Hood's stupidity and childish arrogance had almost caused him to hang. He told her how his father had arrived in the last second to save him from an early death at the noose and he told her how proud he had been, that he had felt recompensated for his years of devotion. Then he had told her how his father had been acting strange since his arrival, how he would not leave his home, that he seemed almost sickly and she closed her eyes at his recollection of the tale, because she had already gathered what had befallen his father in the holy land. She had snuggled further into his embrace and hugged his waist tightly to her. He had felt appeased at the consolation and had laid his head on the top of her head and had continued his tale. He had told her of the morning that the village priest, the Lord of Locksley and the bailiff of his lands had come to collect his father, who had been branded a leper. He had told her that he had thought the procision had been a dream. He had told her that he had vehemently hoped and been in denial that his father, the invincible crusader had been shamed, had been forsaken by his family, when his treacherous wife had declared herself a widow. He had told her of his horror at seeing his father struggling to get out of a four foot hole and at his desperation of losing his father once more, as he disappeared into the woods, into his exile. He told her of how he had blamed Hood's father, how he had believed that he had orchestrated this. He told her of how he had seen his mother tending to his father at the lepers' camp, how betrayed he had once more felt, because his mother was denying him his father, whom he had longed for for so long. He told her of how he had confronted his mother and had been shocked to find that she was planning to marry Hood's father. He told her of how he went to the lepers' camp and had beseeched his father to return. He told her how his father had returned and had confronted his wife. He told her how Hood's father had come in during the confrontation, in search of his mother and how, unwilling to let the Lord of Locksley tear his family apart, he had foolishly tried to stop him with a flaming torch. He told her of the fire, how his confrontation with Locksley had caused him to arsonate his home and kill his parents and Hood's father. He told her of the guilt he felt at being a murderer at fifteen, and his first victims had been his parents. He told her that the fire had taken everything from him- his parents, his fortune, his estate and he and his sister had been left distitute. He told her of how they were cast out and left to wander the earth with nothing in their names. He told her of the bitterness, the resentment, the avarice that had gripped his heart. He told her of how he had sold his sister to marriage a few years later, when she had been fifteen, so that he could fund his ascent to power. But he also told her, how it had not been until he had met Vasey that he truly rose from squalor. He finished his tale and for a long time, she lay silent in his arms seemingly processing all he had told her. He did feel less burdened after telling her, but he felt dread that she would find him repugnant, that she would condemn him because of his past. He had been preparing himself for her rejection of him, so it was surprising when she reached up and raised her lips to his. She kissed him tenderly and lovingly and Guy had felt the tension leaves his body, at her display of affection. She broke the kiss and whispered with compassion thick in her words: "Oh, my poor Guy." He laid his head on the crook of her neck and inhaled her soothing scent, and he felt her chest rising and falling as she breathed and he felt at peace, because he felt her understanding and her compassion for him and it consoled him, for the first time he felt consoled from the hardships of his childhood.

He felt her combing her delicate fingers through his hair lovingly. He did not know how long they had laid after his tale, but he had been lost in thought, in reflection. He broke the silence to voice his thoughts: "I wonder if life would have been different for us had my childhood been different." Her fingers stopped and he looked up at her to see her reaction to his question. She was looking over him and her eyes had a distant and sorrowful look. She moved down, so that their faces were level with one another and she was so close that the tip of their noses were touching. She whispered in silent contemplation, seemingly to herself: "It would. But it is not wise to dwell on what could have been. We found each other and that is all that matters." He looked at her unhappily and said: "I know, but if I would have not been so foolish as a boy, I could have spared you, us much pain." She closed her eyes and lay her hand on his cheek, caressing his jaw: "Yes, but I would still have endured it all the same, if it meant finding you." Affection rose in his chest at her words and he kissed her passionately. He broke the kiss and he whispered to her: "You would have still come to your uncle and you would have still been lost on your way and you would come up to me and ask me for directions. I would be proudly overlooking my own lands, and at the moment I would have laid eyes on you, I would have fallen in love with you, just as I did when I first saw you on your stead. I would court you and eventually I would ask for your hand in marriage." She interrupted him and said with a contented smile: "And I would say yes. We would get married and we would be happy. I would give you a son. A beautiful, strong boy with my father's red hair and your piercing blue eyes. You would teach him everything you knew and he would revere you, he would adore his strong, proud father." He felt his chest contract painfully at their ruminations of what could have been and he once more buried his head in the crook of her neck and he said with contentment coating his words: "Little Guy." He heard her let out a peal of laughter and she said: "We would not call our son Guy. Trust me, one is already enough." With mock chagrin and amusement colouring his voice he asked: "What would you call him then?" He looked up and saw her smile serenely and tip her head back to gaze at the sky above them: "Astrolabe" she whispered in wonder. His eyebrows rose and he said quietly: "That's not a very Christian name." Yet he knew that he would not deny her the joy of naming their son, because she looked so enraptured with the fantasy and the name, so he asked: "What does it mean?" She sighed and her smile grew wider, as she gazed at the sky above them. She breathed: "It's an instrument used to measure the distance to the stars. A way of measuring heaven." He felt tenderness flood his chest and he gently shifted her face, so that he could kiss her once more.

He could taste her warm, salty tears in this kiss and he knew that she was crying due to the unfairness that had befallen them. She was crying out of longing for the life they had imagined, for the life that they wanted. He tightened his arms around her and he kissed her tear-stained cheeks tenderly, while she murmured: "It's not fair." He nodded and said: "I know. It isn't." "Promise me something." she said and looked up at him with her shining cornflower-blue eyes. He smiled down at her tenderly and said: "Anything." "Promise me that you'll never lie, steal or cheat." He looked at her and he felt conflicted, because he still worked for Vasey, both of them were aware of that and he had thought that she would have asked him to leave Vasey's side. He was about to open his mouth to reply, when she put her delicate finger on his lips, silencing him. She said: "But if you have to lie, lie with me for all the nights of our lives. If you have to steal, steal away all my sorrows and if you have to cheat, cheat death, because I wouldn't want to live a day without you." He felt his eyes begin to sting and his heart was pounding in his chest. He lowered his face to hers and he whispered: "All my life I was in the search for something. All my life I have been waiting for you." She kissed him tenderly, before he proceeded to love her once more.

* * *

The early lights of dawn were illuminating the dense shrubbery of Sherwood Forest. Eloise was walking by Guy's side to where he had stationed his dark horse. She was walking at his side with a bright, genuine smile of her face and she could feel his gaze upon her. But she did not meet his gaze, to tease him. It had been so long, when she had been so carefree. When she had not had to worry, yet the raid that Robin had planned for tonight lurked ever-presently in her subconscious. They would meet tomorrow night and she would tell him of the child she carried, she would tell him that she was going to leave for Chester, to carry his son to term and that she and their son would wait for him in the village she had grown up in. She knew that last night had not changed anything, that he was still intent on carrying-out 'Shah Mat', but she still prayed for his failure. She would still fight him, though she would not tell him that tomorrow. She would beseech him to come to her. Perhaps they could leave, go to France and he could escape his sentence after King Richard had been reinstated. Hope filled her at this plan and her smile widened. They were moving through the forest side-by-side and she loathed to part from him. She had tried to keep him by stating that it was the nightingale's melody he heard and he had almost given in to her beseeching, but then she remembered that she had to return to the camp and it had been his turn to convince her to stay.

The sound of their footsteps caused a swarm of white doves to fly up into the air and she exictedly ran toward them and stated: "I shall catch a feather." She could hear his laughter behind her and he stated: "You'll never catch one." She turned around and fixed him with a glare containing mock-annoyance: "Skeptic." She had to surpress her smile at his carefree chuckle and she longed to hear more of it. She ran toward the patch, where the doves had taken off and she saw a white object floating down toward her. She smiled brightly and grasped the feather in her fingers, before turning around excitedly and embracing Guy, who had come up behind her and was sporting an indulging, affectionate grin. "I caught it." She said and drew back slightly from the embrace. She looked up at him and proceeded to caress his face with her new-found treasure, she stated huskily: "A dove's feather, it means love." She averted her gaze from his and looked up at the sky and proclaimed: "This shall be my own religious relic and I declare today holy. For I could never be happier than I am now." She turned back and before she gave into his kiss, she whispered: "Never."


	43. Heartless Wind

Chapter 43

_"A black wind took them away from sight, and now the darkness over day, that night. And the clouds above move closer looking so dissatisfied. But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing" Valentine's Day- Linkin Park _

They were being too loud. Eloise cringed at the cacophony of footsteps that rose within the corridors and seemed to echo through the entire interior of Nottingham Castle. They were being too entirely too loud with John's booming footsteps, Much's dragging, slurring ones and Djaq's agitated, high-pitched steps, and together they generated a revealing symphony that caused dread to chill Eloise to the bone. She shivered at the thought of the consequences their discovery would entail, it felt as if icy water had replaced her blood and now ran throughout her bloodstream. She was scared. The last time she had walked through these halls had been the most miserable days of her life. She had been under house arrest, cut off from her friends having her freedom and liberty brutally ripped from her and being under Vasey's clutches. Always at his disposal, always at the mercy of his demonic whims. She had escaped two times already. Two times she had been able to run from the oppresive haze this place induced and from the miserable destiny, which had awaited her. First, a nuptial with an arrogant, tyrranic man and then the last time she had escaped the embrace of the noose. She had Robin and the outlaws with her. People she held dear, people who fought with her, who shared her believes. Her friends, whom she would lay her life down for. Surely, she should not be so disconcerted. They had saved her from certain death last time. Robin had saved her, as her airways had been slowly crushed by the strangulating nature of the scratchy rope. He had saved her in the very last second and she had never been so grateful for his astounding sense of timing.

Still she could not shake the fear that something would happen tonight. Ever since Robin had told them of his plans to raid the strongroom of Nottingham Castle, a month after her escape from Vasey, she had been having a premonitory feeling in the depth of her gut, which was so strong at the moment that it felt as if it was twisting her insides, like a servant would twist a recently cleansed sheet. The feeling of dread, which had her insides feeling like ice was so strong and so asphyxiating that she feared for the safety of her baby. Surely the pain in her stomach could mean no good fortune for her child. She put a steadying hand on her belly, like she wanted to ensure that she was still pregnant, wanted to ensure her baby's presence, encouraged him to make contact with her through the feel of her hand. Though she knew her child was the size of a walnut at the moment and surely he would not respond to her touch. Still she hoped, as at this moment it was her only possible source of hope, when she ran through the halls of Nottingham Castle feeling frigid from fear and despair and a feeling that predicted that tonight something would happen that would forever change her life. She had often walked through the endless, twisting corridors of the castle and she had always taken note of the coldness of the halls. Even if outside, it was almost oppresively warm, the thick stone walls would close off the interior of the castle from the pleasant climate outside and the halls were always arctic and dreary. She had often joked with her uncle that this reflected the nature of Vasey's soul, that someone as vile as him could never live in a place that was warm and inviting. Not even the torch, she held infront of her to illuminate her path through the labyrinthine hallways of the fortress could provide her with any warmth. It warmed her skin and threw flickering shadows on her face, but it seemed as if her insides and her skin were two separate units, because even if her skin was warmer and warmer by the second, she felt dread freezing her and she was surprised she could still move for her limbs surely had to have given up any activity. She felt herself becoming more scared, each second she stayed in Nottingham Castle. She hated this place. She associated it with so much misery for not only her, but for others as well. They had passed nearby the dungeons earlier and she had heard the screams of the tortured and it caused her to become nauseated for only the most forsaken and tormented souls could have emitted such a screeching, hopeless wail. This was the place her uncle had died. This was the place she had been imprisoned and would have been executed in. This was the symbol of Vasey's power and success, a symbol of his tyrrany, which she strived to destroy.

She remembered her talks with the village priest in Chester. His name had been Father Mathew and he had been a congenial man, who her nurse had been fond of, because he was an honest and generous messenger of God. He had been kind to Eloise. He had not admonished her for her unsatiable curiosity, like other cleric members may have had. No, he had indulged her and had answered her childish queries with as much patience, as he could have mustered. One day, she had been eleven years old and the death of her mother a year ago still weighed heavily on her heart, she had asked him to describe heaven and hell for her. Father Mathew had at first been disconcerted, because the description of hell and eternal torment on the fiery depth of purgatory, was common knowledge to all, so that a remainder would be frugal. All knew that hell was in the underworld and that the tortured, unfortunate souls who resided there, burned in agony for all of eternity and were tormented and tortured by Satan. Father Mathew had never indulged in vivid descriptions of hell during his sermons, he had only adviced the citizens of Chester how to best avoid this squalid fate. To this day Eloise did not know what had prompted her to ask Father Mathew this question. Like all children, she had been taught of heaven and hell by her caretakers. Perhaps her curiosity had gotten the better of her, perhaps she had wished to know what her favourite priest imagined afterlife to be like. Perhaps she wanted to know the opinion of the man, who to her eleven-year-old-self was incredibly wise and knowledgeable and, best of all, willing to share his wisdom. So she had asked him and he had at first been disconcerted by her question, but then he had become pensive before giving her this piece of knowledge in a solemn tone of voice, which she would never forget. She would forever remember how Father Mathew's congenial glint in his eyes had been replaced by a darkening of his pupils, that had emphasized his solemnity. She remembered how his voice had become deep and raspy and lost his warmth, as he had told her:

_"The descriptions in the bible are very detailed, my child. Surely those have been passed on to you, since you have been able to retain knowledge and perhaps even before that. So you have to forgive my surprise for people usually have such a fixed idea of what heaven and hell are like that when they do ask me, it is without the genuinity and pure curiosity that I see in your eyes. No, they already know what my answer should be and as a priest they already know what they expect me to say. Hell is described as a fiery pit, a burning abyss, where the condemned shall forever burn with wounds that shall never heal and that will punish them for their depraved sins. That is the answer I should give you. As a priest, as a bearer of the bible. But as your teacher, as your friend I shall tell you my true opinion. You have always been told my child, that heaven is an unattainable place, that humanity is already too depraved by the original sin that has been bequeathed to each of us, since birth. You have been told that heaven is a place in the clouds, where you shall know no sorrows, where you shall have your every heart's demand, it is the place of God and his most loved subjects. I do believe that being in heaven is being closer to God and you should most certainly believe that as a devoted christian. But I can not believe that it is unattainable, as so many of my educators had indoctrinated into me. I believe you make your own heaven my child, because every individual's idea of fulfillment is different. You make your own heaven, and as such it can not be impossible to achieve, as long as you pursue happiness. You do not have to die to experience heaven. You may find heaven in life, doing something you believe in, having a purpose, being beside a dearly loved one. You can catch heaven, if you are only willing to try. The same goes for hell. The gruesome images that have been beared to us from generation to generation, since the beginning of time, surely to discourage us from sin and it has good intentions to save us from depravity. But everyone's idea of unhappiness is different, everyone's idea of torment is individualised. So Hell is what you make of it and it is just as possible to see hell before you die, as heaven."_

And she had, she had seen hell. At this moment Eloise realized that hell was this place: Nottingham Castle, for this was a godforsaken place, a tortured place and every second she spent in it, she felt her soul being weighed down by depravity and misery. Her steps quickened, she was desperate to leave this place. The discorduous symphony of hasty footsteps and the metallic clinging of coins was creating a melody that irritated her ears greatly and the smell of fire and smoke that rose from the flame of the torches asphyxiated her breathing passages. Robin was running beside her and he was exuding an air of triumph and superiority. She could not resent him for that. He had felt fulfilled and self-satisfied when he had been able to steal Vasey's gold from the strongroom, even if the Sheriff's machievellian contraptions had strived to prevent him. He had gotten past any obstacle, past the flying arrows, which's mechanism had been activated when he had stepped on one of the identical cobblestones. He had managed to avoid the gaping void in the floor, that had opened when he had once more stepped on a loose stone, which's falling had caused the surroundings one's to free themselves as well. He had gotten past all that and he had collected Vasey's gold and now they moved quickly through the dark halls of the castle, carrying numerous sacks of gold, which's weight slowed their escape. Eloise could not scold Robin for being exuberantly happy about this raid. He had so long thought of this strongroom and its impossible nature to infiltrate. He had finally achieved his goal and Eloise could not resent him for enjoying that. They had stolen the gold that would have financed the coup against their sovereign and this squalid gold would be used for better, more benevolent purposes. It would be used to feed the poor. She was supposed to feel fulfilled, happy, but any joy she could possible have was suppressed by this oppresive haze of dread and disquiet. They had not met with any barriers. Any guards had been quickly disabled with John's quarterstaff or Much's mace. Eloise had thought that Vasey would increase his security, especially after her escape. She had thought that he would have tried to prevent any more interventions by the outlaws, so it was disconcerting that they had not met with his increased measures. The outlaws had been relieved and Robin had told her, that she worried too much and that this would be easy once they had retrieved the gold. But Eloise could not shake her suspicion and as she had gazed at John's knowing and solemn expression, she knew that he shared her worries. But they were almost out into the courtyard and once they had managed to cross this open area, where they would have to rely on the concealment of the night, they would leave and be sucessful and Eloise would have been wrong to worry so greatly. And she longed to be wrong. She desired it with every fiber of her being. She longed that the cold dread in her stomach would subside. But as they ascended the stairs with haste and saw an assembled crowd consisting of Vasey, Guy and their guard, all heavily armed and prepared to fight them, she knew that she had not been wrong. And she knew that her premonition, whatever it entailed would come to fruition.

* * *

This surely had to be the apocalypse that had been predicted in the holy book. This surely had to be the day, where the world would cease to be and all the inhabitants of it would be judged and would descend into an enternity of heaven or hell. This had to be Armaggedon for Eloise had never witnessed such a terrifying battle. Vasey had stopped their escape and they had been so close to having achieved success with their raid. Yet, her intuition had proven cruelly true and they had engaged in an epic battle with the guards of Nottingham, who had been tasked to prevent their escape. Eloise had never seen so much blood-shed, she did not remember ever witnessing a battle of this proportion. She had read about those battles, the battles of her ancestors, who defended their ideology with admirable courage, the battle in the Holy Lands, which she had longed to fight in, to serve her king, but they had always been illustrated as glorious. She had expected it to be glorious, but all she saw was fear and misery and depravity. There was nothing honourable about battle, about war, but Vasey had declared war on them. Had declared war on England, when he had decided to kill England's only hope. He had decided to kill England and they would fight back with all they had. Eloise was sweating from exhaustion and her arms were becoming heavy and lame from continuously withstanding the attacks of the sharp, glinting blades, which were unstoppingly raining down upon her. The forceful impact of the weapons causing metallic reverberations to course through her arms, that only added to the growing ache in her limb and prompted her to grit her teeth against the painful vibrations. She now thanked John for his continual persistence on teaching her how to wield a sword, for her dagger-throwing and her bow and arrows were useless when the guards were in such close proximity to her. Her skill was not great, but she could defend herself and for that she was grateful, otherwise she had no doubt that she would have perished long ago. The sky had become lighter, as dawn approached and the previously dark blue sky had become a lighter blue colour until it had turned grey, as if nature itself grieved the scene it had to witness. All here present had become automatic and had shed their humanity, for it was a vulnerability and on the battlefield none could afford that. A heavy prize to pay for self-preservation. They had to discard their vulnerability and their humanity, becoming automatic machines, whose thought extended on little else than wielding their drawn weapons and fending off attacks. The streets of Nottingham were lighted by the illumination of flames, and the source seemed to be so great for even the heavens reflected the red, foreboding shade, making the heaven seem as if it was blood-drenched, as if it thirsted for blood, as if the blood that had been shed in the courtyard of Nottingham castle had been absorbed by the sky. The light of the flames were lighting the faces of the men in a gruesome way, which was almost demonic in nature and which reminded Eloise once more of her lectures about the flames of purgatory and demons. The young woman could not help but compare this situation with hell; the dimension was surely nearby, looming in proximity, eagerly awaiting the victims of the raid, Robin had orchestrated. And instead of running off in fear of danger, death and falling into the godforsaken abyss, they stayed in this hazardous zone and, while fighting, lost their souls. She could hear the distressed cry of the men, who had been wounded and the fearful discord, which had settled like a blanket over the streets, which should have been silent at this hour of the morning, perhaps only interrupted by the sound of carts, which arrived with merchandise for the market. But today would not be a normal day, Eloise knew that. Today people would not go out into the streets, people would not buy overprized merchandise off greedy merchants. Whatever the outcome of this battle, Eloise was assured that the world for her would be entirely different.

She parried the attack of another heavily armoured guard and pushed the man off with such a force, that it caused the guard to fall back and hit his head on the pavement, rendering him unconscious. Eloise looked around frantically; almost missing the constant appearance of a blade swinging down on her. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins and her every sense was on alert. She was prepared for anything, for anyone. She looked around, her eyes instinctively seeking out the outlaws, seeking him out. She saw Djaq, Will and John fighting off guards, but they seemed to be in control of their situation and they seemed to be handling the guards well. She could not see if they were wounded from this distance, but the fluidity of their movement suggested that they had not acquired any wounds, and if they had, they were shallow and unconsequential. Eloise was breathing heavily and awaiting. She had been given a respite for too long and she feared what this tranquility would entail. She looked around the courtyard and she could not see Robin or Guy, and their absence caused her to become agitated. Her eyes now quickly scanned the area, in search for Robin's sandy-blonde hair and Guy's black-leather attire. When she did find them, her jaw dropped and fearful panic packed her heart. They were standing on the walls of the castle, high up next to the watch-towers and even from her, Eloise could see that Robin had disarmed Guy and was holding his blade to the man's throat. Eloise could imagine the murderous look on her friend's face, as he had his life-long rival beneath his blade. Eloise's legs moved to her own accord, she felt the early morning air whizz past her as she ran toward the two men. She did not acknowledge the burning of her legs, or the painful sting in her side, as she ascended the stairs that would lead her to them, caused by her physical exhaustion. All that mattered was that she reached both of them, before Robin could make good on his desire and kill the father of her child. She ran and she ran, and when she had reached a distance that was within their hearing range, she screamed with pure, undiluted panic coating her words. "Robin! Stop!"

Robin, who had been about to raise his blade looked over his shoulder and saw the approaching Eloise. She could sense his murderous gaze at the interruption and she felt his hatred and his contempt, directed at the man, whose throat was still beneath his blade. She ran up and stood on the upmost step of the stairs. She held Robin's elbow and she should have been intimidated by the furious look he was giving her, but she would not allow him to kill the man she loved. She looked at him and said beseechingly: "Robin, don't do this. You are not a killer. Don't lower yourself to Vasey's level, to Gisborne's level. You are better than that." Her eyes flickered to Guy and she could see his disconcerted expression at his situation, and the fearful look in his grey-blue eyes spurned her on. Robin hissed: "He is a traitor and a monster, Eloise. I shall be doing the world a service by riding it of his tortorous existence." He had an obstinate look in his eyes, which Eloise had witnessed so many times before and which had always brought her joy and which she had always admired. Yet at this moment it only caused her pain and despair, for she knew nothing would bring Robin off his intentions. Her face contorted with agony and she screamed frantically, in fear for her heart breaking: "NO! I forbid it. I will not allow you to kill him." Robin's eyes darkened and now she could feel hatred radiating from him, but she was unsure whether it was still directed completely at Guy. His voice was low and cold as he said, with jealousy and rage coursing through his green eyes and making him look deranged: "I see how it is. I advice you to leave Eloise." He turned around to face Guy again, but Eloise was obstinate and she would not allow Robin to kill Guy. She would not allow him to loose his soul. She would not bear losing Guy. So she only held on tighter to his elbow and whispered: "Robin, please."

The next thing that happened shocked her. Robin drew back his elbow and in an attempt to get her off, he elbowed her without turning back. It should have been the lighest of touches, but Robin had underestimated his wrath and the strength it had provided him with, so when his elbow collided with her breastcage, it caused all the air to leave her and a stinging pain to spread through her body, causing her to gasp at it. She was caught off guard by the impact and the pain and caused her to stumble back. And she was standing so close to the edge of the steps of the staircase. The last thing she saw before she fell back and tumbled down the numerous steps down to the courtyard, which was so far below, was the shocked look in Guy's eyes. And then she fell.

* * *

There is one thing certain about life and that is death. Yet death itself is so uncertain, so mythical. You constantly question yourself what is death, how does death feel, what follows death? All your life you spend questioning these things, yet when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door, you do not question, you do not think. You are simply aware that you must go, that it is your time now. You do not think about the pain, you do not think of what will happen afterwards. What you do think is that you should have predicted it, that you should have seen it coming. That you had felt it approaching you like a silent predator, that it had blanketed you like sheet, and then it had tightened around you, smothering you. You should have known, your body had warned you, you had gotten the sixth sense, the sense of death. When you had looked at your reflection in the lake this morning, you should have known because there had been a clandestine glint in your eyes. A look of death. You should have known. People say that death is easy, peaceful and that life was what was hard. Yet, everyone has such a fear of death. Surely if it was an escape, it would not warrant so much hostility. The instinct of self-preservation had always negated any optimists about death. Our bodies know from the beginning of time, what it is like to die and unconsciously knowing the sensation, we fear it and rightly so.

Eloise was tumbling down the steps and each impact of her body with the hard, unyielding stone caused agonizing, never-ending pain to course through her body. She longed to step into unconsciousness' inviting embrace, letting the blanketing darkness soothe her and comfort her. Yet her mind did not focus primarily on the pain, but on the conversation she'd had with Isabella before her maid had died. How she had told her that the pain would have been short and that she would spend eternity in soothment. She felt bitter at her words, because as she fell down the steps, unstopped, the pain seemed to go on forever. She thought of the child she had in her womb, her son, Guy's son, the product of their love. Surely, the fragile thing had not endured the trauma and had perished and feeling guilty and resposible for her child's death, which caused her heart to be shattered, she now wished to die. Because she had lost her love and if this pain was what it was like to die, then she felt like she was dying. But the only difference is that she hoped that death would end, that her torment would eventually cease. Her body was beginning to go into a stupor and she was beginning to not feel anything and for that she was grateful, as well as dreadful. She did not want to die. She wanted to live and she wanted to tell Guy of his son and she wanted to be with him, until the end of her days, loving him.

As she felt her back make contact with the floor and she heard the sickening crunch of something breaking within her, time stopped and a second felt like an eternity. It is always said that as you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. You see the course of your life, the times of contentment, but also your sins, as if in your last moments on earth, your memory wished to taunt you. But she did not see that. She did not see her life. She did not see her childhood, that was marked by the death of her mother and her father's indifference, as well as her Nurse's care, which had never been enough to soothe her greed for love. She did not see her life in Nottinghamshire, she did not see her friendship with Robin and her alliance with the outlaws. She did not see the intrigue and secrecy her life had become interweaved with, she did not see Vasey's cruelty, or the Shadow. She only saw her times with Guy and reliving those memories caused undiluted joy to rise up within her and her heart, that she was sure would cease to beat in seconds, soared. She felt at peace, she felt calm, and then she was engulfed in darkness, like she had gone to sleep, but she never came back.


	44. Gone

Chapter 44

_"And the clouds above move closer looking so dissatisfied. And the ground below grew colder as they put you down inside. But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing. So now you're gone, and I was wrong. I never knew what it was like to be alone, on a Valentine's Day. On a Valentine's Day" Valentine's Day- Linkin Park  
_

He stood paralyzed and was looking at the place Eloise had previously stood, begging him to spare Gisborne's life. He felt as if he had been struck and as if his insides were being torn apart. For a moment, he had though that his heart had ceased to beat, that he had ceased to breath, but he was still alive and he was still in agony. No, death it would have been a release, but he was forced- condemned to listen to Eloise's screams as she fell down the stairs, and he overheard her screams above the defeaning noise of the battle that had been raging in the courtyard below. His ears were still ringing from her high-pitched shriek and the sound of her body impacting with the unyielding stone of the steps. He kept gazing at where she had been standing, hoping she would manifest before his eyes, hoping he could turn back time and give in to her demands that he leave Gisborne alone. But she didn't and he knew that the next time he would lay eyes on her, it would kill him, because she would be... no, he couldn't think it, because it caused an agonizing pain to start in his head. He looked away, because he could no longer bear looking at the void before him, that was bare, bare of her, so he looked behind him and he saw Gisborne. The dark-haired man had an impassive, wide-eyed look on his face and simply stood staring at nothing, staring forward, staring where Robin himself had been staring. It was as if Gisborne was inanimate, like he had just awoken and was still disoriented as to what happened. But then the man's features contorted and a look of despaired agony entered his eyes, as well as determination. He bent his body, as if he had received a blow to his midsection and all the air had left him, his features contorted and Gisborne let out a guttural sound that was akin to a heart-broken sob. Gisborne was broken out of his shocked stupor and pushed past Robin and ran down the stairs, in hopes to stop Eloise's fatal descent, but Robin knew that they were too late, that they had been too late, when Robin had accidentally pushed her and she had fallen and Robin had been astonished by the power behind his thrust and had failed to hold her. No, they were too late, because Eloise was dead.

At the realization, he felt as if his heart was being compressed cruelly and he felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. To lessen the torment of guilt and grief that had built up within him, Robin let out a sob and did not stop the flow of his tears. Similarly to Gisborne he felt determination course through him, because he needed to see her, because he still felt a flickering of hope, that perhaps... But it was stupid and irrational to do so, Robin knew that, but his heart would still retain that hope until he saw her, and he prayed to God that he had spared her. That God had not taken her from him. He turned around and proceeded to descend the stairs, but as he came closer to the ground he saw the kneeling figure of his archenemy, who was holding a doll-like figure in his arms. The hope Robin had felt was extinguished and now it was despair that fueled him, that caused his step to quicken, disregarding that he could fall as well and share a similar fate to Eloise. The sound of deep, agonized sobbing that belonged to Gisborne filled his ears and he wondered at that, because he would have never thought that he would see this proud, invulnerable, cold-hearted man cry. Yet as Robin came closer, he could see the reason for his enemy's despair. He saw the lifeless form of Eloise, as Gisborne held her close, embracing her. He should have felt indignation at his enemy's proximity to her, but all he felt was shock and all-consuming grief, as he saw Eloise's cornflower blue eyes staring fixedly at the sky, her eyes completely lifeless, her determined glint of excitement gone, that melancholic undertone gone. And as he thought that they were gone permanently and were never coming back, he felt overwhelming grief bury him under its tidal wave and he let out a broken sob, as if he had just broken the surface of the water and was gasping for breath. This had to be a nightmare, this had to be a cruel illusion, because she couldn't be dead. Not Eloise, his best friend, his most trusted ally, the woman he loved. She couldn't be dead, because she had still so much to live for. But, as he came to her side and knelt before her and saw how her pale skin had become impossibly paler and she now resembled a ghost, he realised that this was not a nightmare, because surely he would have awakened by now. He closed his eyes and he hoped that when he opened them he would be lying in the outlaws' camp with Eloise's warm body beside him and he would wake her and she would blink owlishly at him and listen to him tell her about his nightmare still half-asleep. She would smile tenderly and affectionately at him and she would call him silly and she would tell him, that she would never die, because she still had to fight for King Richard and England. That she would never die, as long as he needed her. He would proceed to tell her that he would need her until the end of his days and he would tell her that he would not be discouraged, even if she fancied herself in love with Gisborne. He would tell her that he loved her and that he would fight for her to be with him, with all his power. He would then kiss her and he would feel alleviated, because he had wanted to do that, since he had discovered that he loved her, since he had told her of his life as a crusader and had told her of his belief that every religion was entitled to the Holy Lands and she had looked at him with pride shining in her eyes and his dreams had been haunted by this very look, since then.

When he opened his eyes, he was not at the outlaws' camp, he was still in the courtyard of Nottingham Castle and he was in front of the staircase that led to the top of the wall and he still was kneeled before the lifeless Eloise, who Gisborne had pressed to his chest like a rag doll, while he cried brokenly into the crook of her neck. Robin examined his rival before him. One thing that he had always admired about Gisborne was his impassiveness, the fact that nothing could disconcert him, his strength. The leather-clad man was an aloof, heartless, cold fiend, who cared for nothing, but his wealth and himself. But the man that was stood before him, mourning the dead Eloise was broken, and as he whispered: "No, please." his voice made it sound like the man was dying himself. This could not be Gisborne. Because he could believe that this man loved Eloise, yet he was assured that Gisborne was entirely uncapable of love. Robin felt indignation rise within him at the perverse display in front of him. How dare Gisborne touch his Eloise? How dare he stand there, as if he mourned her loss, while he had been happy enough to watch her be executed, just a month ago? Robin felt like he would implode and he hissed venomously: "Get your filthy hands off her." Gisborne stilled and he languidly shifted his gaze to Robin, like a predator. His eyes flashed with wrath and reflected the anger that Robin felt roaring within him like a burning inferno. He still held Eloise and Robin now said louder, but with venom and disgust still dripping from his every word: "Take your filthy hands off her. You killed her, she is dead because of you." And it was true, Eloise was dead because of Gisborne. Her affections for the dark-haired man had destroyed her in the end. Had she not foolishly tried to save Gisborne she would have been alive and well still. She would have never fallen down the staircase and she would still be with him. He would still have the prospect that they would be together after they had triumphed against Prince John and Vasey. But Gisborne had killed her and with her, the prospects of happiness Robin had cultivated. He looked at the leather-clad man with refreshed hatred in his eyes. Yes, hatred. It was easier to hate, than to continue feeling this grief that threatened to choke him. He could see Gisborne looking down at Eloise's lifeless face, and he saw the man's features contort with agony and guilt and he passed a tender hand across her cheek, caressing her skin. Robin wondered if she felt as cold, as she looked. Yet, he still wanted to chop off Gisborne's hand, he wanted to strike him, to make good on his desires to kill the Sheriff's Master at Arms. But he couldn't. He couldn't raise his sword and drive it through the black void that replaced Gisborne's heart. He couldn't kill him and rid them all of the torment he caused, because Eloise had died to save him and he couldn't deny her last wishes, as much as it pained him. He couldn't kill Gisborne, because then Eloise's death would have been in vain. He couldn't and he wouldn't release Gisborne of the agony the man no doubt felt, which he could see reflected in his features as he gazed down upon the beautiful red-haired girl, that they had both loved and that had previously been so full of life, but who now lay lifeless between them. Yes, they had both loved her. Robin could see and admit that now. Yet he still resented it, because Gisborne's love had destroyed Eloise. He destroyed everything.

He felt the pressure of a large, calloused hand on his shoulder and he turned around grateful for the distraction, because he could no longer bear the pain of looking at Eloise's lifeless form. He turned around and looked at a sweat-drenched and exhausted John. "Robin we need to retreat now. We have to..." John stopped midspeech, when he saw the agonized look on Robin's face and his features contorted in confusion and concern. Robin was aware that he was obstructing John's view of Eloise and unwilling to explain the cause of his pain, he shifted to the side so that John could see the body of their deceased friend. As soon as John lay eyes on Eloise's deathly pale face and lifeless eyes, shock came over the bearded man's face. This was followed by his features contorting in sadness, but then seeing that the girl was in Gisborne's arms, his eyes flashed with anger and intention of revenge and he put his quarterstaff to the leather-clad man's neck and boomingly asked: "What did you do to her, you bastard?" Gisborne was about to answer, equally furious, but Robin interrupted them and said: "John, we have to go." He went to take Eloise out of Gisborne's arms, but the Sheriff's right-hand-man simply tightened his arms around the girl. Robin looked up at him angrily, seeing that he would not let go and said: "Gisborne, I will take Eloise." Gisborne's features contorted in anger, and accusation and he spat: "You had her in life. Let me at least have her in death. Does your selfishness know no bounds?" Robin exhaled shakily and strangely he did not feel anymore anger at the man's words. No, he felt urgency and a dire need to get Eloise out of this place. She couldn't stay here, not here. Robin looked up at him and said in a measured voice: "Is this what she would have wanted? To stay here in Nottingham Castle? A place she loathed with all her might. Her idea of hell. Do you think she would have wanted to stay here with Vasey?" Gisborne looked down at the the lifeless girl and he looked conflicted. He closed his eyes and slackened his arms. Robin used to opportunity and took her from Gisborne's embrace. Immediately he felt a new wave of grief, as he felt how cold she was, he could feel the frigidness of her body permeating through the clothes they wore and he could no longer feel her heartbeat, her soothing heartbeat. But he steeled himself and suppressed his sorrow and moved out of the castle courtyard. He expected Gisborne to come after him, to fight for Eloise. Yet he never did. He never came and Robin moved without obstructions in the direction of their camp.

* * *

He felt Much lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, as they stood before the hole in the ground, which they had lowered Eloise into. He felt Much's attempt at consolation, but any of his servant's efforts were wasted, because Robin felt as if he had been stabbed, as if his insides had been torn up. He felt overwhelming grief, as he gazed down at the lifeless form of his friend, who now had her eyes closed and who looked at peace, as if she was sleeping. Robin felt an asphyxiating lump in his throat and his vision swam with the tears that had welled up in his eyes, as he gazed down at the form of the woman he adored, who had been laid on a bed of flowers and who looked as if she was simply asleep. The outlaws had insisted that she was given a proper burial and Djaq had wanted that she was buried with flowers, knowing of the girl's love for petals. He looked away, because eventhough she was dead, Robin could not help but think that she still looked so beautiful, that it broke his heart, because it did not seem to him as if she was dead. Because eventhough she looked just as lovely as she had in life, he felt no hope rise in his chest, because he knew she was dead and this would be the last time he would gaze upon her, before they buried her and he would never see her again. He felt his hands trembling, as he thought that he would never see her beatific, tender smile directed at him, he would never hear her bell-like laughter at one of his jokes and would never get to see that glint of excitement she got in her eyes, when she was truly happy. He would never see her eyes shine with determination and excitement when she talked of their cause. He would not cry, he had to be strong for his outlaws, he would not cry, but he felt the overwhelming need to, especially as he looked down at her dead form in the ground. He looked away and studied his outlaws' expression, they were all gathered around the grave and Robin could see grief clearly written on their faces. Djaq was crying silently for the loss of her friend and her head was leaned on Will's shoulder, as he tried to console the desolate Saracen, while he too looked in front of him with a saddened expression. Much stood beside Robin and was sporting the same facial expression as Will. Allan stood before him, Allan-A-Dale, who had betrayed him and had started working for Gisborne, but who after the raid had come back to the forest and had asked to be taken back. Allan, who had justified his desire by saying that he owed it to Eloise and that his alliance to their cause would be a way to honour the memory of the girl, who had been his friend when he had none. Allan looked at the grave with a tortured expression, but also one full of promise and Robin could see that he was genuine in his wishes. He looked at John, who was standing at the side with a defeated expression and who was wistfully passing his thumb over her outlaws' tag. He heard the bearded man say in a raspy voice: "Her, I liked." He then dropped the outlaws' tag into her grave and proceeded to close the tomb by shovelling earth into it. Robin stood transfixed and horrified, as he watched Eloise's form disappear beneath the dirty-brown earth. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't, because he knew that she deserved to find her peace, that after the hardships of her life a burial, a proper rest-place was the minimum she was entitled to.

Long after John had finished closing the grave, Robin still stood there looking at the mound of earth, beneath which she lay. The outlaws had gone back to camp, one by one. First Much, then Will, who had tried to get Djaq to come with him, but the Saracen woman had remained and now stood solemnly at Robin's side. Then John had gone and with him Allan. Now only he and Djaq remained still unwilling to part from their friend. He longed for Djaq to leave, because he needed to be alone, he needed to be alone with her and he felt himself shaking with the exertion of holding back his mourning for her and he longed to simply allow Djaq to see his tears, but he couldn't, because he still needed to be a model of strength and stability for the outlaws. Especially now that they had lost such a vital part in their cause, especially now when Vasey was still unbeaten and still planned to kill King Richard. Especially now that he had sacrificed so much, and he needed to continue fighting to honour her memory, because she would have wanted the prosperous England, that he had always told her about, with King Richard sitting on his rightful throne. He heard Djaq sigh despondently and dispel the mourning silence that had settle over them. He felt her put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he simply wished for her to leave. For her to go. He longed to mourn the loss of the woman he had been in love with. He heard her accented voice say: "It is acceptable to cry, Robin. Everyone hurts at the moment." He closed his eyes and shook his head obstinately. He heard her sigh once more, but now it was at his stubbornness. Why did she not leave? She had mourned for her friend and now she had to leave, because she had dispelled the silence between them, signalling that she was about to leave. He felt intent coming off of Djaq and he turned his head toward her and said in a low whisper: "What are you not telling me Djaq?" He knew that she wanted to tell him something and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw her eyes widen a fraction, before she turned back toward Eloise's grave.

Silence had once more blanketed them, but it was tense and Robin could feel how Djaq seemed to be deliberating whether or not to tell him something, which she found important. Normally, Robin would have insisted that she tell him, had he been in his old spirits he would have done that, but he was despondent and right now it did not matter. Right now all that mattered was his grief for the girl, who had died today. He closed his eyes, as he thought about the injustice of fate, as he thought how someone as altruistic and benevolent as Eloise had had to die, such a gruesome death, while Vasey, who was depravity incarnate was enjoying good health. He heard Djaq whisper, as if she was fearful that anyone would overhear their hushed conversation: "She was with child." His head snapped to the despondent Saracen and she was looking at the grave with a despondent, small smile. "She was with Gisborne's child and she had been so happy. She had been filled with hope. I thought that you had the right to know." With that said, Djaq turned around and walked back to the camp with her shoulders hunched. Robin was looking at the grave incredulously and overwhelmed with his grief and with the revelation he sank to his knees and cried over Eloise's demise. The death of his best friend, the death of the woman he had loved and over the knowledge that despite what Gisborne had said, she had never been his.

* * *

***ducks out of the way from flying tomatoes* OMG I know, I know you guy's must be pissed with me for writing this decision. I know you must be pissed with Eloise for dying and I know you must be pissed at Robin for inadvertently killing her (Damn you, arrow Boy!) I understand that a lot of you will be frustrated and pissed with what has happened- especially considering Eloise's resolve toward Guy and their future life together. However, having Eloise die was part of the plot from early on- thus my description of the protagonists' love being tragic and destroying them ultimately. I did grow to love Eloise more than I expected, similarly to all the characters I wrote- Guy (of course), Isabella, Sir Edward and even Robin. Yet, her dying was such a huge component of the Story and I have no idea how I would have finished this Story should I have Chosen to Change it. **


	45. Without your light

Chapter 45

_"I still press your letters to my lips and cherish them in parts of me that savour every kiss. I couldn't face a life without your light, but all of that was ripped apart when you refused to fight." Snuff- Slipknot _

-6 months later-

He was lying on his back on a hard, wooden bench and was staring unblinkingly at the celing of the chapel. He had been coming here often over the past few months and he had done something that he had not done for twenty years. He had prayed. Since he had lost his parents along with the Gisborne estate, he had been filled with bitterness, bitterness at humanity for forsaking him and his sister, when they were helpless children. Bitterness at the world for its cruelty, bitterness at God for the path he had weaved for the Gisborne children. He had been bitter and he had felt wicked, because it had been his doing that had caused the death of his parents, he had lost his soul as soon as he had killed them, so God wouldn't pay heed to his prayers. So he had not prayed for twenty years, he had gone to Mass naturally, as it was required of him, but he had forsaken his belief in God and knew that God had abandoned him anyways. Yet, over the last six months he had been paying regular visits to the chapel and he had prayed with vehemence and despair fuelling him. He had been praying for God to return her to him. He had prayed that he would not take her from him forever. He had prayed for that night to have just been a terrible illusion his mind had crafted. And when God had not listened to this beseeching, Guy had still not given up and he had started to pray that God could take him as well, that he would reunite him with her. But most of all, Guy had prayed for God to end his agony, for he lived in it. No, he supposed that he didn't live, he survived. He had stopped living the moment he had seen her lifeless body lying on the ground, his heart had been shattered when he had taken her into his arms and he had felt how cold she was and he had not been able to hear her heartbeat, a sound that he had always treasured when they had laid together. He had ceased living and started surviving, the moment he had seen her skyblue eyes vacantly looking up at the sky and that glim of excitement forever gone. He had ceased living the moment she had left him and taken what little remained of his soul with her. Now he only lived in agony and Guy knew that he would have to endure this pain for the rest of his days. He had prayed for mercy, for absolution, but God had disregarded him. He was paying for all his sins, the torment he felt was surely proof of that. But why take from him the one thing that was good? The one thing about him that was pure and kind? Why take the thing that he had loved most? Why take her, when she had never done an evil deed in her life? Had only shown kindness to all, despite their faults? Guy remembered the grief he had felt when his parents had died. It had not been much, because the days before had been already torturous to him, with his father in disgrace after being declared a leper, his treacherous mother planning to marry Hood's father. He had not felt much grief, because he had been already tortured enough. Yet the grief he had felt, had been too much for young Guy and he vowed to never care for another being, never love another human, because he did not want to feel grief again. And he had been true to that resolve for the next twenty years until the moment he had heard her voice asking him for directions and he had turned around to see her on her white stead and he had fallen in love with her at that exact second. He had tried to stay away from her, not because he feared her death, because he could such a lively, young girl die? He stayed away, because he feared her duplicity, he feared vulnerability on his part.

Had he only known how brief their time would be...

Had he known it, as he had eyed her on top of her stead like an assasin viewing his target, like a threat he had to categorise. Had he known, in those first, smug days, when he thought she was simply something fleeting, something insubsequential compared to power and gold when, fool, he imagined himself indifferent to love, to her love... Had he known, that day when he had seen her at Knighton and she had appeared looking like a savage, her dress torn, her fiery red hair unkempt like a lion's mane, with mud streaking her cheek, had he known that afternoon when she had told him of the wolf and they had both been standing in the rain so close to surrendering to one another; both incidences she had made him literally dizzy with desire. Had he known the day he had come to confront her about her duplicity and he had cursed his love for her. Had he known, as he had stood with her in his treasure room and she had looked at him with such innocent desire, that was so genuine and pure. Or the first time his lips met hers, when she had trembled against his chest and his heart exploded. What a genuine shock it had been to realize he was in love. How he had fought against it! How he had tortured her! Yet, had he known, during the hours of heaven they spent in bed, that their embraces were numbered... Had he known it, mere hours earlier, as they held each other in the fevered darkness on the forest floor… Had he known that one day he would have to live without that beloved face; that memories would be his life's oasis… He would have held her. Drank her. Clung to the insufficient bliss of fleetingly having her. He would not have wasted time on anything else.

"Oh Gizzy," the nasal voice of his superior broke through the silence that seemed to encompass him all the seconds of his life now. He closed his eyes and with dread anticipated the arrival of his bane, of his tormentor. He simply kept quiet, wishing that Vasey would leave him to wallow in his misery, that he would be left in peace, that he would be left to indulge in his memories of her, that were his only respite of the pain. But his wish, like all other, went disregarded and he felt the weight of Vasey sitting down on the bench and he felt the demonic man's scorching, mocking gaze on his skin and he longed to claw out his eyes. "Look at you." Vasey said with contempt and mock-concern colouring his voice. "Look at what that treacherous, little snake has done to you. She got what she deserved in the end for fucking Hood, Gisborne. " Gisborne's hands balled into fists and he felt rage coursing through him, as he heard Vasey talking about Eloise in that manner. She had worked for Hood and Guy could not negate that fact, but she had fought for what she believed in. She had never been at his side, but she had been at the side of justice, she had followed her heart and it had lead her to Hood. She had loved Robin Hood and his heart still constricted at that, because she had never been his. Hood'd had her. And Guy would have given her up, if it meant that she would be happy and alive, he would have handed her to Hood. It would have agonized him to let her go, but he would have the consolation of knowing she was alive and content, he did not have her now. She was lost to him completely. "Look at you. You look pathetic. You are supposed to be my right-hand-man, the leader of the Black Knights. The man who would bring down King Richard himself and be one of the wealthiest men in England, if not the world. But look at you now. You need a hair-cut and a proper night's rest, Guy." Vasey spoke with compassion and fatherly concern colouring his voice and Gisborne would have thought it genuine before her, but she had shown him the true extents of his depravity, had shown him how unbearable life was before her. Yes, his hair had grown and he supposed he had lost weight and his eyes had dark rings from lack of rest under them. He had been indulging in ale for the nights of the past month, in hopes that the alcohol would dull the ache. He had tried not to sleep, because he would dream of her, he would dream of the night he had lost her and he had held her dead form in his arms and cried over her like a babe. Or he would dream of their time together, and those dreams were worse, because he would awake with such longing that he would tremble and his grief would only increase. His appearance did not matter to him.

What difference did it make whether his hair was short or long? What difference did it make whether he was gaunt and exhausted emotionally and physically, or training to murder their king, her idol? What difference did it make if he was in the chapel praying or if he was training his guards for their nefarious plans? Whether he exercised his scheming mind or disregarded their plans? Whether he had all the gold in the world or he was poor as dirt? Whether he perspired or melted altogether? Whether his life was scheduled to end tomorrow, or days from now, or meander dully through the eons? What difference did it make if he was man or woman? God or insect? Strong or frail? His body was merely a vessel of love, _for her._ As long as he carried on existing, it would be so. She was engraved in him forever. "Gisborne, son, isn't it better to have all the power and gold of this world, to satiate all your desires and needs, than to have that headstrong, manipulative girl?" Vasey asked him seriously. "What would you have done with her anyways? Married her? You'd have condemned yourself to a life of misery with a frigid little wife, who would cry in disgust everytime you entered her ice-cold cunt." He stood at that his eyes flashing with uncontainable wrath and he considered driving his sword through his superior and once and for all end his tyrrant regime, but then his shoulder slumped, when he saw Vasey stand and look at him with an authoritarian air. He closed his eyes, as he remembered their intimate embraces, which each time had been done in secrecy, but that had filled him with delirious ecstasy. He could still recall how she felt, he could still recall her smell, the sound of her soft mewls, the way her fiery-red hair had felt against his skin. He closed his eyes at the onslaught of memories and he whispered: "Please, don't talk of her like that." Vasey hit him upside the head forcefully and said with determination and anger colouring his tone: "Get yourself together Gisborne. I will not tolerate this behaviour of you any longer. Either you become yourself again and become worthy of being a Black Knight, or I throw you in the dungeons." Vasey was looking expectedly at him, as if he was awaiting his decision this very moment.

Yet they were interrupted before Guy could answer by the entry of an agitated guard, who informed them that Hood and his outlaws were in the courtyard and had just been caught during their raid. At the mention of Hood, Guy felt anger course through him like dark venom and he gritted his teeth. It had been Hood, who had pushed her down the stairs. Perhaps, Hood was right and it was him who had destroyed her, but Hood had killed her. While he still blamed himself for her death and felt guilt beyond measuring, he also blamed the outlaws, especially Hood and he would avenge her death. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, he moved with determination warming him from the inside toward Hood. He fought an outlaw, who had tried to prevent him from getting to Hood, and he now stood before the man with his sword raised, deranged with blood-lust and intent to feel his sword pierce the man's vital organ, when he felt an arrow pin his sleeve to the wall behind him. It had nicked his flesh slightly and he gritted his teeth instinctively against the sting, but he felt like a caged beast and frantically tugged at his sleeve intent to free himself. He saw Hood stalking up to him with anger and contempt in his eyes and he felt Hood put the cold steel of his dagger against his throat. At the position and the feel of the blade, which Hood had placed the same way six months ago, he remembered the night and his anger subsided giving way to despair. He looked Hood in the eye and whatever Hood saw in his expression caused his rage to waver. Guy stated beseechingly: "Kill me. I live in hell." Hood looked at him incredulously for a few moments and then he spat through gritted teeth: "Stay there!" Guy was left to watch helplessly, as his enemies exited the courtyard without a scratch to them.

* * *

**OHHH! Don'tcha just wanna slap the Malevolent One in ze face? This was a very angsty chapter- I know. It was a bitch to write, because I don't know whether I really did Guy justice in the way he would deal with his grief. I worry about his thoughts that I wrote and I hope you guys think I did plausibly. **


	46. Death of Hope

Chapter 46

**So this chapter is all in italics and the narrative may seem choppy. That is because these are flashbacks of Guy. These are in my opinion the most important occurences in season three. I may have tweaked the plot lines here and there, but the essence is the same, I feel.**

* * *

_"My own was banished long ago, I took the death of hope to let you go." Snuff- Slipknot_

_He sat in the cold, moist stone-floor in his cell and he had become deaf to the tortured screams that rang throughout the dungeons. He had to smirk humourlessly: How the mighty had fallen. He leaned his head against the unyielding stone wall of the cell and exhaled exasperated. He had been Sheriff. After he had killed Vasey, he had been Sheriff. His joy at having achieved that station of power had paled in comparison to his exuberance at having killed the despicable man, who had been his tormentor, his captor. He had felt freer and he had felt invincible, because he now ruled Nottinghamshire. But then Isabella had returned. His little sister. His only living relative, the one that he had sold to the elderly lord as a wife, when she had still been a young girl. The same little girl, who had always come to him looking for consolation, when she'd had a nightmare or when there had been a storm outside and she was scared of the thunder. He had cared for his sister, but at the time he had found the offer that the Lord had made for his sister too tempting to disregard. He had needed money for his agenda and the only way to get it, had been to sell his sister. It was one of the deeds that had shamed him his whole life. A deed that he had regretted and that had pained him, for he had loathed to give her to that disgusting, old pervert to exploit her. But it'd had to be done.  
_

_He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that it was a servant, a young girl with chestnut brown hair and large brown eyes. He looked down despondently and continue to wallow in his self- pity and self-depracation. When Isabella had arrived she had shown him how greatly she resented him for selling her to that man. She had told him of how badly she had been treated, like a whore she had said, and Guy had felt guilty, but he did not for long, because it was in the past and he could not undo what had been done, even if he wanted to. He closed his eyes and recalled Isabella's betrayal of him, she had tricked him and ended up as the Sheriff of Nottingham. She had taken his post and proceeded to put him in the dungeons, where he had remained the past fortnight surrounded by the smell of decaying flesh and piss. The prisoners had jeered when he had been deposited in his cell, the sight of their captor and torturer receiving his comeuppance was no doubt the only source of delight from them in this hellish abyss. "Sir Guy" a soft voice said and immediately his back stiffened and his eyes snapped open, because that dulcet tone, that sweet voice reminded him of... But it was only the servant, who was holding out his ration of stale bread and rancid water. He closed his eyes and exhaled soundly, passing an exasperated hand over his eyes. It had been a year now and he was still haunted by her. And as much as he wished that he could long for it to cease, he treasured the agony which her haunting induced him, because it was a way to keep her with him. As agonizing as it was, he had prayed for this, he had prayed for God to not take her completely from him. He had prayed one prayer to God and he had repeated it until his tongue had gron stale. He had prayed that she would not find peace, for as long as he breathed. He had heard of the stories of ghost, who wandered this earth and tormented their murderers, as they could not find peace in the afterlife, due to the well-being of the one's that had caused their demise. He had prayed to God that she would not leave him. He had beseeched her to take any form, to derange him with her presence, to drive him crazy. He would have accepted anything, just so she would not leave him in this dark abyss alone, where he could not find her.  
_

_Remembering the servant girl, who was still standing infront of the bars of his cell, holding out his meagre meal, he moved forward and took the piece of bread and the cup of water from her hand. He raised his gaze and he saw her smiling at him with a tender look in her eyes and he almost recoiled and dropped his sustenance, because it had reminded him of a pair of cornflower blue eyes doing the same. He could have sworn it had been her eyes, her looking at him. It had reminded him of the tender way she had gazed at him, when he had come to call on her and how she had genuinely seemed at ease in his presence. He averted his gaze and moved to sit back in the corner of the cell, where he had wallowed during his confinement, for it was the only place, where light from the outside world flitered through the narrow window and illuminated the dark cell. He looked up when he did not hear the sound of female footsteps walking away, diminishing in volume, as her distance from the cell increased. He looked up to see the dark-haired girl looking at him with a beseeching look in her face. Looking at his food hungrily. As soon as she felt him reciprocate her gaze, she looked away ashamed and made to stand up. Guy examined the girl and he saw that the kitchen-maid dress was loose on her form and he could only guess how thin and malnourished she was. She was about to leave, when Guy asked in a voice that was raspy from his lack of use: "What is your name?" She started and turned back to him slowly, looking at him with an incredulous look in her brown doe-eyes. He did not know what had caused him to stop her leaving, only that he had felt pity, no... compassion, toward this girl, who had looked at the ration he thought repelling with so much longing. As he studied her, specifically her eyes he could see the same innocence that he had always seen in Eloise's eyes. "Meg" she said in a whisper, while still eyeing him warily. He moved closer toward the bars and tore off a piece of the stale bread and held it out to her. She looked at the piece of bread and then up at him and her eyes had swom in confusion. He simply looked down at her and he had become slightly exasperated, when she did not take the bread from his offered hand and left him standing there like a fool. So he said: "Take it. You look hungry." In response, she had only looked up at him and then she had slowly stretched out her hand and she had taken the bread from his hands. He turned around to move back to the corner, when she whispered softly and affectionately and if he closed his eyes, he could have imagined that it was her, her standing behind him: "Why did you give this to me?" He did not turn around and simply kept walking back to his isolation, pretending as if he had not heard her answer. Yet his mind was screaming the answer at him: Because you remind me of her. Because you are the closest thing I have had to her in over a year of pain. Because it is what she would have done. For a long time, he only sat surrounded by silence, which was broken when he heard her scampering footsteps moving away._

* * *

_She was kneeling at his side and she was intently gazing at him through the bars. He did not meet her gaze, but he felt her eyes on his skin. "I could help you, you know." He shook his head solemnly and dejectedly. Tomorrow he would be executed at the earliest light of dawn and he supposed that he should be feeling more dread at the prospect. He should have been scared, because he would finally be pulled into accountability for his crimes. But... perhaps he would be reunited with her, perhaps he would find her. He allowed himself to hope that she would be waiting for him. He felt his heart soar at these prospects though he knew them unlikely. He would pay for his depravity and his sins for all eternity burning in purgatory, while he was certain that she, angel as she had been, had gone to heaven and had found her peace. He still hoped stupidly, still needing her, loving her just as much as he had a year ago. "I can't allow you to put yourself in danger for me, Meg." Meg, a sweet girl. He had become fond of her, she had been a consolation to him during his confinement. She had shown him kindness and she had persisted in befriending him, even when he had tried to push her away. "I want to." she whispered, her voice thick with tears at the prospect that awaited him the next morning. He smiled then at her affectionately and his chest filled with longing. It was not the first time Meg reminded him of Eloise. Both were headstrong and obstinate, willing to risk themselves for what they believed in, kind and generous to a fault, even if he did not deserve it. He pivoted his body and put his hand on hers, which rested on the bars. He raised his gaze and looked her in the eyes before saying: "You make me think." "About what?" she asked, her voice thickening with the need to cry. He again smiled at her compassion and her concern for him and more assured of what he was going to say, he revealed: "About somebody that I used to know. Somebody that I cared for. Someone who saw good where there was none. Who made me want to become a better man." She looked down and her eyes betrayed her already knowing the answer, still she looked up at him her brown eyes shining with unshed tears and asked quietly: "What happened to her?" He closed his eyes, as he confessed: "I destroyed her. I destroy everything."_

* * *

_It must have been minutes before his execution and Guy sat beside the bars, his long legs stretched out waiting for the guard to come and fetch him and take him to meet his fate. He had sent Meg away after their conversation, she had been obstinately adamant to save him, so that they could escape to Sherwood Forest together. Previously, Guy would have taken the opportunity and he feared that if she was not so uncannily similar to Eloise, he would have still taken her up on her offer and then after reaching safety, he would have abandoned her and left her to her fate. But he could not. He could not let her put herself in danger, risk her life for him. She had done so and it had left with a broken heart, that had no hopes of getting mended. He thunped his head back, but then he heard the sound of hasty footsteps approaching his cell, followed by the metallic sound of a key beng fitted into a lock and he felt the breeze of the cell door, as it swung open. He opened his eyes and he looked up at Meg, who was smiling down at him excitedly and beseeching him to go. He should have felt indignated with her, should have told her to leave while she still had not been discovered. But as he looked up at her smiling face, her eyes shining with excitement, he remembered the last time he had talked to her. When after a night of love-making she had caught a dove's feather and she had been so carefree and joyous, that it had tugged at his heart strings and then she had declared the feather to be a holy relic and that that day had been holy, because she had never been happier and he should have told her that he too had never been more joyous. That he could not remember a time he had been completely free of any care. That he was only at peace, only truly happy in her presence. Meg's smiling face reminded him of that, so he found himself unable to deny her. He stalked up to her and put his hand on her cheek, stroking her cheek bone. He smiled tenderly down at her and thanked her sincerely. She said nothing in response, but kept beaming up at him and it tugged at his heart, because it reminded him of how he had claimed Eloise's smiling lips that day again and again, how he had worshipped every inch of her with his lips. They were broken out of their content reverie by the sound of the arrival of his sister and her guards. He felt dread fill him and he looked at Isabella, who was smiling maliciously at him and saying: "How sweet! Take them both to have their heads cut off." Immediately, the guards descended upon them and he grabbed both him and Meg and he could hear her horrified crying. _

_They were escorted out into the courtyard and toward the podium, where they would have their heads cut off. He could hear Meg's scared sobbing and in an attempt to appease her, he said: "It'll only hurt for a bit, and then you will go to a place, where you shall know no sorrows:" He said those words recalling how Eloise had consoled her maid, when she had been about to hang. As Guy saw the means of execution his sister had chosen he had to smirk bitterly- an honourable death, a painless one, fulfilling her duty as a sister. They were made to kneel and their necks, were placed in the neck rest before them. He could hear Meg's panicked crying and he beseeched Isabella: "Kill me, but spare her." Isabella looked at him non-plussed and said: "Execute them both." He had to grit his teeth to prevent cursing out loud. _

_He was waiting for death, when he heard the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air and hitting the steel of the axe. The next thing he knew was that the axe had embedded itself into the wood of his neckrest mere inches from his face. He could hear Isabella screeching at the guards to apprehend Hood and he had to smile at his rival's appearance. He had never been so glad for an outlaw ambush. He used the opportunity that Isabella was distracted Hood and helped Meg up. They would escape to Sherwood Forest and then Guy would decide what they would do next. The only important thing was to get to safety. He saw Meg smiling up at him, as they descended the podium and he was about to run, when he saw a guard coming toward them and he was prepared to fight him, but then he pierced Meg with his sword, before cruelly taking it out again and it left her body with a squilching, sickening sound. Guy was in shock and he struck the man with such force that he fell unconscious. He looked at Meg's pained facial expression and he scooped her up into his arms and he knew he had to take her away from this godforsaken, horrible place. She couldn't stay here. Here where Vasey's foul presence still made the castle putrid and rancid. _

_He ran into the woods and let himself down beneath the shade of a tree. It was still mid-afternoon and the sun beat mercilessly down upon them. He wanted her to be comfortable, he had heard her pained gasps all throughout their journey to this location and he knew he had hurt her with his agitation to leave Nottingham. He looked down at her, and saw her pained expression as she grit her teeth. He furrowed his brows and looked down at her unhappily, before passing a soothing hand on her forehead. She looked up at him in a beseeching facial expression and he could feel her slight body tremble in pain and she whispered: "Please." He smiled at her sadly and lowered his head to give her a soft peck on her lips. As he drew up again, he looked at her smiling, seemingly forgeting her pain and she whispered: "You know. I always quite liked you." Then the light left her eyes and he felt her body slump and he could feel the warmth leaving her. He was transported back to the night a year ago. When he had held the already dead Eloise in his arms and he had begged her not to leave him, when he had asked her to stay or to take him with her, eventhough he knew that he could not follow her where she was going. He had never had the chance to say goodbye to her and he had understood the pain she had felt, at not having been with her uncle when he had passed. He looked down at Meg, someone he had grown fond of and at this moment he was reminded of his loss of Eloise and how everyone who seemed to show him kindness where bound to perish, as a punishment for trying to mend his broken soul. He grieved her loss, before he stood up and went. Meg had sacrificed herself to save him, he would not have her die in vain._

* * *

_He stood in front of the fire place and Hood's father was trying to make amends for the lie he had let both Hood and him believe for two decades of their life. His mother had been pregnant and had given birth to a brother, that both he and Hood shared. A boy named Archer, a name inspired by a liver spot, which resembled an arrow head. The foolish boy had gotten himself into trouble and would hang for his crimes under the authority of the Sheriff of York. Hood had found him, as he had been wandering through the dense growth of Sherwood Forest in hopes of escaping Isabella. He had encountered Hood and had decided to end their quarrel here and now. He would kill Hood or he would be killed by Hood; all he had known was that only one of them would leave the battle alive. But then he had felt the sting of a dart and he had become dizzy and fallen into unconscious and then he had awakened and he had been bound with Hood and a hooded figure had proceeded to retell the events of their shared childhood, that had led Guy to become the man he was today. The figure had proven to be Hood's father, who had miraculously survived the fire and he had just reached the part of his tale, where he had entered the chambers to find Guy's parents conversing and in jealousy he had forgotten the threat of the approaching fire that Guy had instigated. _

_"I saw both Lady and Lord Gisborne standing side by side and I was submerged in a jealous rage, that my Ghislaine would still consider Sir Roger, a leper, after she had agreed to become my wife. I forgot myself, I forgot the fire below and I grabbed my sword and proceeded to back Sir Roger into a corner. Now I knew that it was not honourable to threaten a sick man, but I forgot myself and I was angry that he could not leave my Ghislaine in peace, that he still pestered her even after she had rejected him by proclaiming herself a widow. I was angry beyond belief, as he told me that he had come to his senses and discovered that his family was worth fighting for. That he had only come to this conclusion now, after having forsaken them to fight in the Holy Lands. That he only realised this now that I had fallen in love with Ghislaine and we were going to build a life together and that he was once more going to stand in the way of our happiness. So I forgot myself and cornered him and behind me I could her Ghislaine's beseeching, that I would spare the life of her husband and at her obvious affection for Sir Roger, I only grew more angry and I elbowed her back, with too much force. I broke her neck in the process and she died before the fire could reach her. Sir Roger decided to stay with his wife and I barely escaped with my life, but I couldn't return. I was ashamed and guilty for having killed the woman I loved."_

_At that recollection Guy looked over at Robin and sneered disdainfully before he spat with disgust colouring his words: "Like father, like son, eh?" Hood did not respond to his taunt, but simply looked at his father shocked. Only now did the realisation of Hood's father's words wash over him. He had not killed his parents, he need not have lived with this all-consuming guilt this whole life. He felt unburdened- he was innocent of this crime, but at the same time he felt indignation and unhappiness course through him. Had it not been for the Lord of Locksley's jealous impulsiveness, he would have not lost his parents, he would have lost the estate, but Guy would have not had to go through the hardships that he had endured as an adolescent. He would have not turned into this ruthless, depraved, bitter man and the life that he and Eloise had imagined, had dreamed of for themselves could have come true. He sneered in distaste and unhappiness and he once more felt grief fill him for the unlived days of their love. He heard the former Lord of Locksley's raspy voice state: "There is bad blood between the two of you, that needs to be cleansed for your brother needs you now. He needs the two of you to stand united." Outraged Hood stood and said in a resolute bellow: "I will never make peace with Gisborne." His father looked at him and asked contemplatively and clearly unhappy: "Why?" "Because of Eloise." Robin screamed, still burdened by his grief. "Because he destroyed her and he doesn't even show contrition for it." Guy said through gritted teeth: "You have no idea what you are talking about." Hood smiled mockingly and whispered cruelly: "Oh, I don't? You really think so? Who do you think she came to when she felt disgusted at herself for allowing you to touch her with your filthy hands? Who do you think she came to, to laugh at your patheticness? Who do you think she came to, to complain when you snivelled around her like a spaniel? Who do you think she came to, when you impregnated her with your spawn?" Guy had wanted to strangle Robin for his words, but his last sentence had paralyzed him. She had been pregnant? Had carried his child? He remembered their talk the night before the raid and he remembered how she had talked of a son and how she had told him that they would have a lot to talk about the next time they met. She had been pregnant. He had not only lost her, but also his child that night. He slumped against the tree, defeated by the new tidal wave of grief that had encompassed him. He did not see how Robin's smile dropped, as the meaning of his words sunk into the outlaw and he did not see how the outlaw looked genuinelly sorry at seeing Gisborne's grief. He did not see how Hood approached him apologetically and how he outstretched his hand. He only saw that Hood had approached him and out of his grief sprung murderous rage and he jumped at Hood intent to cause him similar pain. Then he felt the familiar sting of a dart, as it injected the sleeping draught into his bloodstream and he welcomed the darkness once more._

* * *

_He sat at the edge of the outlaws' camp and he was pensively staring into the moon, as he reflected on their mission to rescue Archer. As he thought about the cocky, ungrateful, bold boy Gisborne scrunched his nose in distaste. He and Robin had gone to York and tried to get their half-brother Archer out of the clutches of the Sheriff. Guy had let himself be apprehended and he had been surprised when Robin had been true to his word and had come for him and Archer. As they had tried to escape, they had been captured and were sentenced to hang along with Archer. But miraculously the outlaw had arrived and they had saved Robin and Archer. Guy had been once more surprised when Hood had shot an arrow and had freed him of the noose, instead of leaving him to his fate. Guy smiled bitterly, the pesky outlaw had earned his reluctant and begrudged loyalty at that. All the outlaws had and Guy had proven his alliance by saving John, who had looked at him incredulously. He could understand why Eloise had been fond of them. They were a cheerful bunch and they all had their manner of inspiring loyalty, especially Hood. He still despised them, but he would fight alongside them to abolish Isabella and he had long given up on his plans to kill King Richard. He would fight alongside them for England. They had earned his cooperation. Yet, Archer's they had not, because the ungrateful boy had left them and gone to Isabella. Tomorrow they would storm Nottingham Castle. Tomorrow they would apprehend Isabella and finally have the people of Nottinghamshire living out of a corrupt regime. King Richard's arrival was approaching and once the man had touched english soil, unharmed, Guy would leave England and return to France, where he would spend out the rest of his days. _

_He heard heavy footsteps approaching and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Little John sit down beside him. Guy masked his surprise by schooling his features in an impassive look and keeping his eyes trained at the distance. He heard the man's heavy breathing cut through the silence between them, yet it was not uncomfortable as Guy would have expected. It was companionable and he could not help but think that the bearded outlaw was just as solemn a man as he. His booming voice broke through the silence and he remarked: "Tomorrow's the big day." Guy nodded slightly at that, but he stubbornly kept his eyes trained at the distance. He would never befriend the outlaws, there was too much hate between them, too much had happened and there were too many grudges that neither would relinquish. "What are you gonna do after King Richard arrives." Guy smiled bitterly at that and he voiced his plans to the man, eventhough he did not know what compelled him to: "I'll go to France. Live out the rest of my days in my mother's natal land." He saw John nod slowly, and contemplate his plans. He saw John pivot his body and look at him contemplatively before stating seriously: "Why not stay in England? I'm sure Robin would get King Richard to pardon you, once he told our sovereign of your services to the crown." Guy scoffed darkly at that and his lips twisted into a mocking smirk, before he turned to John and stated: "Robin isn't that fond of me just yet. So I won't really take my chances." "No... but she loved you and it would have killed her to see you die. Robin would do it for her." Guy's face dropped and his insides were twisted painfully, why did the pain of losing her seem as fresh as that night he had held her in his arms? Would it never lessen? "I never understood why she did. She was always such a sensible girl. Headstrong and foolhardy, completely set in her ways, but she was sensible. So I never really got why she cared for you that much, especially when she had Robin after her and both of them seemed made for each other. But, no, she cared for you and at the beginning of her involvement with the outlaws, I was wary and hostile to her, because of the rumours pertaining the two of you. I started trusting her, when I discovered she was the Shadow. Her, I liked. She was a good girl, who did not deserve the fate she was handed. I trusted her, and I reluctantly accepted her feelings for you. She always told me that she saw something in you. I never understood what. You were pretty much just ruthless and cruel to me. But now, I think that if life had dealt you a better hand Guy of Gisborne, I might have seen it too." After that John stood to go, leaving a stupefied Guy in his wake. _


	47. Deliver me into my Fate

Chapter 47

_"Deliver me into my fate, if I'm alone I cannot hate. I don't deserve to have you. My smile was taken long ago, if I can change I hope I never know." Snuff- Slipknot _

He was drenched in cold sweat and he had to grit his teeth, as he felt the venom of Isabella's blade being spread through his body and leaving a scorching sensation in its wake. He was holding onto dying Guy, who had been pierced by Vasey's sword, while fighting for England. They were both in the underground tunel system, which lead from the graveyard of Nottingham to the interior of Nottingham Castle. According to Guy it had been built, when he had returned from his mission in the Holy Lands unsucessful and Vasey in fear of retribution had built this escape route. But they had been discovered, when they had tried to infiltrate the castle. They had been discovered by the vengeful Isabella and to their horrified shock Vasey, who had somehow survived Guy's attack on him and had come bent on retribution. And he had gotten it, when he had driven his sword through Guy's stomach and the leather-clad man now lay in his arms, bleeding out and dying.

Robin looked at the dying man unhappily. He would never admit it, but he had become fond of Gisborne. He had started to admire him for his strength and for his new-formed allegiance to England. Also for the loyalty he had demonstrated to the outlaws and for his determination. Eloise had always told Robin that she saw another side to him, that had his life been different he would have been the best of men. Robin had been sceptical having hated the man, since childhood, but he could now see what Eloise had been talking of. Over the past weeks, Gisborne had become his brother-at-arms, he had become an outlaw, a defender of England and justice. In Robin's eyes, Guy had found redemption. He smiled as he thought of the red-haired girl they had both loved and who would have been so proud of Guy, who would have cheekily told him that she had been right, when she had told him that anyone, even someone who had been perceived as inheritingly evil by Robin, could attain redemption. Robin thought of what would have happened, how life would have been if he had not impulsively pushed her down the stairs that night at Nottingham Castle. Over the past year he had often imagined what would have happened. His fantasies had always been similar, he had imagined her fighting alongside him to reinstitute King Richard and when they had been victorious, he would have confessed his feelings and proposed marriage to her and she would have happily accepted. She would have become Lady Locksley and they would have reigned over the Locksley estate happily and justly.

But as he lay with the dying Gisborne in his arm, his death approaching steadfastly, he could no longer deceive himself. No, life would have been different if Eloise had not perished that night. She would have gone to Chester, back to her nurse, in the belief that she would spend the rest of her days in her birthplace with her child and her nurse as company. She would have asked him not to pursue her, because she would have wanted to forget what had happened in Nottinghamshire. He would have respected her wishes even if it had pained and she would have returned to her father's lands to carry out the baby to term. He liked to believe that Guy would have still joined him in the fight against corruption, in the fight against Vasey and that they would have been victorious and that they would have reinstated King Richard. Robin would have put in a word for Gisborne and he would have been pardoned for his treason against the crown. At that point, Robin would have disregarded Eloise's demands and he would have led Gisborne to Chester, to her. They would ride through the streets of Chester and he imagined it would have looked just the way she had described. In his mind, the place was golden. The huts were the colour of gold, the streets were the colour of gold and the fields ripe with wheat would have been gold as well. He would see the children playing carefreely on the streets, their future of prosperity secured. He would see the women, who were hanging up their washed clothing, he would observe Chester and drink in every inch of the place that his friend had grown up in. Gisborne would perceive nothing. No, his mind would be too preoccupied with the thought of being reunited with Eloise. Robin would try to calm his ally and he reassure him of Eloise's warm reception, though secretely he too feared what the fiery red-haired girl would say to their unannounced visit. They would stop infront of Chester Manor, the house that Eloise had grown up in and they would see a buxom, elderly woman hanging up the washing. Robin would have gathered that this woman was Eloise's nurse Matilda, the woman she had told him about with so much love. They would dismount and approach the woman, who had been a caretaker to Eloise, who had provided her with motherly love. They would have introduced themselves and her eyes would have widened and she would have screamed for Eloise.

And then she would come out. And he knew that she would look so beautiful. Her red hair would once again be long and would cascade down her back in a mass of fiery, untameable curls. She would wear that black and white dress with the short sleeves, that Robin had seen her wear, when he had found her crying over his supposed death, and in which she had been the most lovely creature he had ever beheld. He would indulge in thinking, that she would still wear the outlaws' tag around her wrist, never having forsaken her allegiance to him, to England. Her body would still be dainty and slender, but her curves would be more pronounced from being with child and she would appear holding a small infant in her arms and Robin remembered the way she had held Seth. She would appear and she would seem content and happy and glowing and she would be so beautiful, that he would hear Gisborne swallowing drily beside him. She would lay eyes upon them and her cornflower blue eyes would at first widen in surprise, but then she would get indignated, because Robin had disregarded her wishes and she would tighten her arms around her babe and pull him closer to her in a protective gesture, as if she would have wanted to shield the child from them. She would stare obstinately at them and Robin would break the silence by saying: "We saved England. King Richard has been reinstated." Eloise's features would soften and she would get a flash of pure and undiluted happiness at the news. But then she would steel her expression and she would state neutrally: "Congratulations, but you could have sent a word with a messenger. You needn't have come, whatever your intentions were, I assure you, you will leave quite dissatisfied." He would feel Gisborne slump at her words and already feel defeated by her rejection. She would look at Gisborne queerly, questioning the reason for his presence and his lack of hostility with Robin. But Robin would still be able to see the look of love in her eyes, as she gazed upon the leather-clad man. He would smile indulgingly and say, pointing to both himself and Gisborne to reiterate his point: "No, my friend. WE reinstated King Richard on the throne." Understanding would dawn in her beautiful blue eyes and she would gaze disbelievingly at the man she loved. She would continue gazing at the tall, brooding man with an incredulous gaze, slack-jawed. But her look of disbelief would morph into one of pride and genuine happiness and she would smile so brightly that it would pain Robin slightly. She would look at Gisborne with that proud expression and then she would hand over her son to her nurse and she would run up to Gisborne and embrace him, kissing him with abandon. Uncaring for social convention. She would kiss him and cry tears of joy and she would tell him that she loved him and he imagined that Gisborne would be equally as ecstatic and he would ask her to marry him. Eloise would accept and then she would show him his son and Robin could imagine the look of pride Gisborne would sport as he would gaze down at his child. They would have been happy, they would have been together. They should have been, but destiny had not been kind to either.

He looked down at the dying man in his arms and he felt tears prick in his eyes, as he thought about the injustice that had befallen both lovers, as he thought of the hardships they had to endure. He felt despondent as he thought about the unlived days of Guy and Eloise's love. All they had been denied and he prayed that they would find peace, wherever they would depart to in the next moments. He gazed down at Guy and he said to the man, who was clearly in agony at his wounds: "We will both die, my friend." Yes, friend. He considered this man a friend, he had proven himself to be and his death pained Robin just as he imagined the death of any of his outlaws would pain him. "At least you have someone waiting for you." At this whispered words, Guy's look of pain dropped from his face and was replaced by a bright, expectant smile, that was so genuine and that made the leather-clad man look so much younger, so untroubled. He had never expected the brooding Gisborne to ever smile so widely. "Eloise" he whispered in awe and Robin nodded his head at the sound of their love's name "Eloise, the love of my life." Gisborne mumbled, staring at the distance with a wistful look on his face and Robin wondered if he could already see the red-haired girl, if her spirit was waiting for him to join her. If she was looking at them with pride, that they had overcome their aversion to one another. If she was happy to see that they had redeemed themselves, both of them. Robin whispered: "She was always yours. She always loved you." Gisborne's smile widened, but his expression became more pained, as the pain of his wounds returned to him. "She always believed that you could redeem yourself. She never lost faith in you. She chose you from the beginning." Guy smiled at that and he shifted his gaze to Robin and looked at him with gratefullness and he said: "All my life I lived in shame, but because of you I die free." Guy's gaze shifted, so that he was now looking at nothing and then his grey-blue eyes became vacant and he exhaled shudderingly for one last time, and his body slumped. Guy of Gisborne had died, but Robin could swear that as he had taken his last breath, the corner of his lips had twitched upwards in a small, secret smile and his eyes were fixed at a spot behind Robin. He spun around half-expecting to see Eloise standing behind him, smiling beatifically down at him and thanking him for being with Guy in last moments. She would then disappear no doubt to go to Guy and they would find one another and Robin knew they would be happy, if God had mercy on their souls.

With a shaky hand Robin closed Guy's eyes, and he felt the effects of the poison more strongly now. He felt the posion seizing his heart and making its beating more difficult, he felt asphxiated and he laid down, because his body felt heavy and lethargic. It seemed as if he was seeing things now through a haze and he only felt excrutiating pain. He saw the flickering light of torches approaching him, he heard the pounding footsteps of an assembled mass of people. He saw his outlaws and saw their shocked gaze, he saw King Richard alive and well. Ready to be reinstated as England's monarch, ready to rule England into prosperity. He felt joy, because he had the assurance that he would die, but that England would become prosperous once more under the rule of his idol. He felt himself letting go, he felt the warm, darkness approach him like the sea. He longed to give in, but he only needed to hold on for a few more seconds. He needed to hold on, to do them this kindness. He needed to hold on, just so he knew that they would be together in one way or another. He saw John approaching him with a pained expression and he wondered, how he must look. Once he knew John was close enough to understand him, he said in the loudest voice he could muster: "Make sure he is buried by her side." He knew no explanations were needed, by the understanding he saw in John's eyes. Appeased and at peace, he let himself go and was engulfed by darkness.

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**So, the last chapter. God I can't believe that we have arrived at this Point and I can't believe the Monster this fic has turned out to be. I'm very emotional right now, because this is my first fanfiction that I have ever published, so this is a huge metaphorical Milestone. In Robin's Fantasy of how life would have been if Eloise had not died in the raid, I hope I could somewhat satisfy your justified disgruntlement at them not receiving a happy end. Yet, from the beginning I knew that they would have to die, because let's face it: Their love for each other was doomed from the first second. It would never have worked out, because they both had such differing principles. Yet despite that I really wanted to convey their deep, all-consuming love for one another and I hope I was successful with that. Me thinks that arrow Boy has redeemed himself slightly, no? I mean he finally got that Eloise was Guy's and he made sure they would be together some way. I am partial to characters, which is why I could never write a love-triangle, but I still hope that the way I portrayed my characters was so that they seemed human. That they were flawed, but you could still relate to them and root for them.**


	48. Love will conquer Epilogue

Epilogue

_"Who I am from the start. Take me home to my heart. Let me go and I will run. I will not be silenced. There's a light. There's the sun. Taking all the shattered ones. To the place we belong. And his love will conquer." Shattered- Trading Yesterday_

A swirl of fiery red

The sweet intoxicating scent of heathers and honey

Warm soft skin underneath his calloused hands

Shining blue eyes looking up at him

Soft red lips kissing the skin of his neck

A soft smile

A bell-like laugh

A white feather, held in delicate hands

Violet blossoms contrasting with fiery red hair

With this images flashing before his eyes, Guy of Gisborne takes his last breath and leaves the world. Suddenly he is in engulfed by a sea of darkness. He swims through it, frantically searching for an escape. He feels a weight at his ankle, something that is pulling him down, that longs to hinder his escape. It is a small, grotesteque creture, with the same glint of malevolence and demonic smile that he had so often seen in Vasey's face. He kicks at the creature that clutches to his ankles, the fraction of himself that refuses to heal. The fraction of himself that is riddled with sin, the fraction that she could never have redeemed even if she had lived forever. Yet he knows that she had saved him, that he had found redemption through her, but most importantly he had found love. The creature's grip weakens and eventually drops away ...

He is free. Weightless. Unbound. He leaves that dark fragment behind in the depths of eons, in the depth of hell which is where it belongs and he does not look back – and his soul soars. He rises through the darkness and bursts out into glorious _light._

* * *

Richard the Lionheart was reinstated as the rightful King of England and ruled the country under a just and prosperous regime until his death in the year of our Lord 1199. He would forever retain the image of a pious hero among his people. After his death, Prince John became King and ruled England until his death in 1216. Today his rule is most controversially revised. It is heavily criticised, but he has been described as a hard-working administrator, an able man, an able general. Yet most modern historian agree that he also had many faults as king, distasteful, even dangerous personality traits, such as pettiness, spitefulness and cruelty. The legend of Robin Hood, Lord of Locksley, Prince of Thieves is still alive today. He remains a symbol of courage and generosity, a man who sacrificed all to follow his believes, to give to those less fortunate then him. He was the protector of the poor. His memory has remained fresh in our minds. And with his tale come the tale of his outlaws. Of Little John, who is said to be Robin's chief lieutenant and second-in-command of the 'Merry Men'. Of Allan- A -Dale , who was said wandering minstrel who became a member of Robin's band of outlaws. Of Maid Marian, who is said to be Robin Hood's greatest love, and whom he had married and left the woods for, to lead a civilised and aristocratic life in society.

Yet these are only tales, romanticizations of true accounts, for the reality was far different. The Outlaws disbanded after Robin's death and the return of King Richard to the throne. They were named heroes of England and their memories would live on and be recorded in books, but eventually much of the stories were falsely interpreted. The ballads misunderstood, the true events forever lost, when Allan-A-Dale died at the age of fifty of pneumonia. He was the last to go and he took the true accounts with him to his grave. No one would remember the true tale behind the stories. They would become figures, motifs, they would lose their human touch. They were fictional characters from then on. No one remembered that Will Scarlett and Djaq had returned to the Holy Lands and had married and spent the rest of their days in wedded bliss. No one would remember that Much had married a castle servant and he had lived in Locksley with his wife and children. No one would remember that Little John had left England, after Prince John had been coronated and he and his family had gone to live in France. No one remembered that he, Allan-A-Dale had not spent his days as a wandering minstrel. That he had died alone, never overcoming the loss of his friends. No one remembered the graves, hidden in the heart of Sherwood Forest, where Eloise of Chester and Guy of Gisborne had found their last resting place, had been finally united there, in death. No one remembered Guy of Gisborne and Eloise of Chester and no one knew of their ill-fated love. They had endured too much pain in life, they had never been left at peace. It is only deserved, that in death they should have been united, in death they would have found their peace after their tormentous life. No one remembered Guy and Eloise's love, except them and that was enough.

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**I fear this is the end my friends. I am crying right now. Not only because by Publishing this I officially declare this fic complete, but also because of my writing and the fact that it is tragic. I know crying about my own fic, it's Kinda sad. Don't judge me! :) I want to thank all of you that have reviewed, favourited and followed my Story. I would like to thank everyone, who has accompanied me on this crazy, angsty ride. When I first published I never expected such great Support. I hope that you guy enjoyed the fic. Please Review and give me some Feedback, please take the effort and just drop me some Feedback. Let me know what you thought. Of course I accept constructive criticism and I value it, because it will guide me, while I write my new fic. It is an original character fic, which is both a Blessing and a curse, because I do not have to worry about OOCness that much, but writing completely original characters is challenging and I do hope that you guys will read it. I am still looking for an appropiate fandom here on fanfiction . net. Again I do ask you to Review the Story, because it is my first Story and I was super insecure Publishing new chapters throughout. If you guys have any requests do not hesitate to pm me anytime. Again thank you for taking your time reading this. **


	49. New fic

Hello everyone!

This is just an update to inform you, that I have posted the first chapters of my new fic "She dreams of Golden Hope." It's a Thorin/OC fanfic and I really hope that some of you have the interest to read it. It is again M-rated. Please do have a look-see. I would appreciate some Feedback.

Love, ria95


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